


Memento Mori

by Kirodan_elle



Category: Harry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Depressed Harry, Gen, M/M, Mature Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Slow Build, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 75,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26702866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirodan_elle/pseuds/Kirodan_elle
Summary: "You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone or it will leave you behind"Harry is not so okay after the final battle. The mirror of Erised has something he didn't know he needed. Now it is up to him.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 71
Kudos: 459





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The story has been finished some ten years ago but needs editing.
> 
> "Who wants to separate  
> The world we know from our beliefs  
> And who sees only black and white  
> Distinguish loss from sacrifice"  
> Memento Mori, Kamelot

“Ni conversus fueris et sicut puer factus

Et vitam mutaveris in meliores actus,

Intrare non poteris regnum Dei beatus.”

  


(Ad Mortem Festināmus, 1399)

(May 2nd 1998 Saturday)

Hermione and Ron left him by the ruin of a gargoyle once guarding the headmaster’s study. They, of course, had a reason to go back down to the Great Hall and the crowd of survivors. He however didn’t have one, nor did he have the desire to be approached at all at least for the day. So he turned in the opposite direction and proceeded to Gryffindor tower, already visualizing restful sleep accompanied by sweet oblivion. It was a strange feeling, his feet were walking on their own for a second time this night, and stranger still, the numb void he felt where his emotions of not so long ago had resided.  
_‘It’s over’ _, Harry told himself over and over but the words were hollow much like the effect they had on him. Yes, it was over and he had survived as it was what he was famous for, after all. But what cost was paid just so he could utter the words? So many were dead, so many innocent, and yet still more painful – so many close to his heart. Starting from his mother and father, then Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, and even Snape. They were all irrevocably gone just so he could stand alive here today. And even though he knew he was supposed to be grateful for their sacrifices, he felt angry instead, some unknowable ire burning brighter and swelling with every step he took. Was it worth it after all? Was it for the better this way? What would they say if he asked them? Would they perhaps state that yes, this way was for the best? They would surely pretend it wasn’t Harry’s fault for things to end up like this, some of them had already said it last night, in fact. But still…how could it not be Harry’s fault? If it weren’t for him and Voldemort things would never go so wrong.  
Harry suddenly halted realizing he’d reached the door to the boys’ dormitory without a single thought of where his feet were leading him. He sighed stepping slowly inside, letting the blissfully silent darkness engulf him as he lay on his old four-poster.__

____

____

***

(June 3rd 1998 Wednesday)

A month passed and everything in the wizarding world seemed to have settled. The four past weeks were freakish ones in respect of capturing the last few Death Eaters who weren’t at Hogwarts during the final battle and also flooded with dirty work at the ministry, including lifting enchantments from the workers and reestablishing government posts. At least after the passing of the month everything seemed to be almost normal again. And indeed everyone around Harry seemed to have found the right attitude to keep a smile on their faces. Hermione had found her parents and had lifted the spell on their memory for one thing. She and Ron were currently discussing an upcoming wedding which was supported, to Harry’s vague surprise, by the Weasley family. They seemed to take every chance at rejoicing and it was for the better, he supposed, when the alternative was to mourn ceaselessly over something irreversible… which was what Harry himself seemed to be doing of late. What he mourned exactly, he wasn’t really sure, he had too large a list to choose from, but still the heavy feeling in his chest didn’t melt with rationalization.  
He was currently residing in the Burrow while making vague plans for his future. Ron and Hermione for one would soon start studying for their final exams, he was sure. Ron, because he still dreamed of becoming an auror and Hermione, because… well because she was Hermione. Harry, however, had no inclination to even try to prepare himself for any NEWT’s and didn’t really believe one such desire would land on his head on the way. Something else, altogether different but still in the same spirits, was plaguing him since last month. It had become clear to him that Ginny expected that their relationship would take the same steps as that of Ron and Hermione. And though Harry was fond of her to say the least, this distressed him greatly. Of course he knew the rational thing to do would be to get over his stupid frustrations and propose to her. He didn’t find his frustrations stupid though, so he kept his distance when it came to Ginny pouting about this or that – all alluding to the stopper on the ‘development of their dedication to each other’. Harry understood that of course, this wouldn’t make the problem go away, but persisted to stall in hopes that if he did it long enough, he might just be able to better his spirits so it would all end up well.  
When he came clear to Hermione about this, she was very supportive, saying she understood where he came from, but still there was this look in her eyes when she said it, that spoke volumes of undercurrent doubt.  
His problems aside, Harry had no reason at all to complain, save for the summons from the Ministry, which were the least bit of a snag. He’d already given his testimony the day after the battle. The only thing left for them to do to him was give him a stupid order, which no doubt was exactly what they intended.

***

(June 10th 1998, Wednesday)

A week later found Harry on a podium surrounded by too many reporters and indeed receiving his order of Merlin first class. If only he could find the idea of a first page scowling Potter not so stupid one, he would have done just so. As it was, he stood there trying to cast a disillusionment charm on himself without a wand and thinking privately what a waste of time this all was. And then, just before his turn to receive the piece of metal a realization hit him straight in the chest in the form of a little speech.  
“Order of Merlin First class is awarded post mortem to yet another member of the Order of the Phoenix. This one goes to our long-time link to the Death Eaters’ inner circle, the man who sacrificed his name, dignity, reputation, and his life for the wizarding world. First Class is only fitting for the one who even in his dying hour disregarded his own needs in order to give the Chosen One his last bit of information – the key to the victory over the Dark Lord. To Severus Snape.”  
Harry only vaguely registered McGonagall walking to the front to receive the order, which was no doubt to be placed in Hogwarts. What hit him instead was his own foolishness. It was not him who was important today. He was here to pay respect to everybody else in the wizarding world, regardless the outcome they came to survive. He was here to bow with respect to the memory of everybody who made this even possible.  
“…Harry Potter.”, Harry heard right before the usual applause from the crowd and immediately got to his feet.  
“Sonorus. Thank you, minister,”, he said receiving the order and turning to face the people. “It is a sad day for me to be standing here, being one of the six people surviving to receive an Order of Merlin. So, for me this piece of metal will stand not for my supposed tribute to the wizarding world, but for the many sacrifices made for the sake of our peaceful life. A memento of the courageous, selfless and eternally devoted people who made it possible for all of you to be standing here applauding the mediocre wizard who, because of their help alone, managed to do something very much beyond his capabilities. Finite.”  
Harry didn’t pay attention to the reaction of the crowd. Clutching the order he turned and walked right past all of them until he reached McGonagall.  
“May I have a word, professor?”  
“Why, yes, Potter, you certainly may.”, she said surprising Harry who half expected a rejection. He gestured to the far end of the atrium and towards the exits.  
“I noticed something strange, professor, and I hoped you can make it clear for me?”  
“What is it, Potter?”, she asked tersely fixing him with her gaze.  
“Snape’s portrait – it wasn’t in the headmaster’s office.”  
“Ah, but yes, of course – Severus Snape fled the castle during the battle, I believe you were there.”  
“So?”  
“So his portrait isn’t supposed to be there, Potter. The portraits in the study are of those headmasters and headmistresses who passed away while on the post.”  
“But this is stupid –“  
“Nevertheless, Potter,”, she interrupted her voice stern now. “It is the castle’s magic that decides. And it has decided not to put the portrait there.”  
“But it should be there, don’t you agree? After all he died trying –“  
“Yes, Potter, I agree. This however is a matter of a higher authority.”  
And Harry understood what she meant.  
“Thank you, professor, for making this clear to me. How is the restoration going?”  
“Well.”, she conceded. “Well enough for the school to reopen come September.”  
“Good. I’m glad – Well, I’d better be going now,”, he said glancing past her to see Ron and Hermione coming. “Have a nice day, professor.”  


  
***  


“Harry, what happened?”, asked Hermione, clearly worried. “This was very different from what we’d decided.”  
“Yeah, I know. It was the spur of the moment I guess. All I’ve rehearsed suddenly seemed ridiculous, you know.”  
“Yes, I can imagine, but still – ‘a mediocre wizard’? You sounded like Snape for a bit there.”  
“I did?”  
“Yeah, mate, you did." Ron nodded. "But it was all right, don’t worry. Listen, we’d better get going before the reporters decide to come for an exclusive of something.”  
Harry frowned for a moment finding Rita Skeeter among the crowd.  
“You know what, you go ahead. I want to talk to Kingsley about something.”  
“Now? Why can’t you do it later or –“  
“Come on, Ron, I’m sure Harry won’t be long.”, Hermione said as she pulled Ron by the elbow. Harry nodded and turned towards the elevator.  


  
***  


Once in the minister’s office, he sat down and waited patiently for Shacklebolt to arrive. He sure didn’t wait long.  
“You don’t like the press either, I suppose.”, Harry greeted him.  
“What –ah, it’s you. No, I don’t much care for interviews, especially ones stressing on other’s words.”, he replied stiffly.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Nothing to apologize for. It was right on the spot if you ask me. Not what the public wanted to hear, mind.”  
“No, I suppose they would prefer to hear their imaginary hero dazzling them with puffed up words of greatness.”  
Kingsley smiled and sat down in his chair.  
“Now, what’s the reason of your being here, Harry?”  
“Um, I need a favor actually.”  
“Hm?”  
“I need to file an appeal, though I’m not really sure to whom I should address it.”  
“An appeal?”, he asked incredulous.  
“Yes, it’s all a bit silly. You see the Hogwarts castle has a mind of its own when it comes to whose portrait would be hanged in the headmaster’s office and I need a permission to bypass its decision.”  
“You want a portrait taken off then?”  
“Quite the opposite in fact. The castle decided it wouldn’t hang Snape’s portrait because he fled the grounds during the battle.”  
“Ah, I see, let me just –“, Kingsley went shuffling through the drawers of his desk finally emerging with a paper. “Here, you file it and I’ll pass it forward.”  
“Thank you.”, Harry beamed. “I appreciate it.”  
“No trouble. I would have done it too, if I knew.”  
The boy nodded and immediately started scribbling. Once done, he felt a tiny bit of the weight in his chest alleviating. Though it was really a useless thing to do it was good to know he could do something at least. 

***

(March 19th 1999 Friday)

“I just need more time, Ginny!”, Harry said raising his voice.  
“More time?”, she shrieked standing up from the couch. “It’s been almost a year! How much more time do you need?”  
“It’s difficult for me too, you realize I hope!”  
“Ugh, yes, of course I realize it’s difficult for you, but it shouldn’t be! Why are you so fixed in the past, so determined to ignore me when I’m only trying to help!”  
“I’m not ignoring you, Ginny!”, he said exasperated. “I know you’re trying to help, but pushing us into marriage right now isn’t helping! All I ask of you is to wait. It’s not like I’m denying you something of real importance, is it? We are together, we are happy this way, are we not? And we will get married, but in time, not right now!”  
“We will then? That’s what you say.”, she seethed. “But you say different things while unconscious.”, she muttered.  
“What’s that?”  
“You heard me. You’re calling a name. One name. Frequently.”  
“What?!”, his eyes widened at this unexpected onslaught.  
“Oh, don’t go acting so innocent. Snape’s name. You’re calling Snape’s name in your sleep almost every night. And if I wasn’t sure the git’s dead, I’d have left you by now.”  
Harry’s eyebrows lifted as much in surprise as in realization. Of course he should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later. The day when he’d seen the potions master’s portrait being placed on the wall in Hogwarts had acted as trigger for his frequent nightmares featuring the man. And ever since that day, he’d had them – not every night, mind, but – frequently enough to disturb him. It was one of the main reasons in fact he still felt like there was a long way to go towards the desired peace of mind which would allow him to even think of proposing marriage to Ginny. But what she was obviously trying to imply was a bit too much for him to process.  
“What kind of a sick person do you believe I am exactly?”, he shouted outraged. “How can you – no, I – I don’t know what to say to this, Ginny – really? Snape? You’re jealous of Snape?”  
Ginny looked rather flustered.  
“What else could I possibly make of it, Harry? First you want to wait, then I hear his name every bloody night. And fess up, it’s not like your performance of late deserves even mentioning.”  
Harry winced then frowned, mad at himself for letting it get to him.  
“So it’s all about ‘performance’ with you then?”, he hissed.  
“You very well know it is not!”, she answered affronted. “I’m just confused, I don’t know what to say to you anymore and you have to see it my way. When we add all the things up – what can I say?”  
“I think you said enough. When I add the things up do you know what I see? I see not the girl I fell in love with anymore but an annoying hell of a creature who spends her time in whining, whose only goal is to be a housewife, and who doesn’t even like having sex with me – not to mention she accuses me of being gay! And all this because I need more time to get over the deaths of all the people I ever considered family!”  
“I – I’m –“  
“No, you’re not. And I suggest you go spend this evening with your family instead, Ginny. I need some time alone right now.”  
And that was the end of the argument obviously, for Ginny went quiet and after a moment gathered her things and left. Harry sighed, left alone in his apartment at last. He felt guilty for being secretly glad of the solitude, but he couldn’t deny the dire need of it for the last couple of months.   
Of course it wasn’t Ginny’s fault at all, he realized that. She was a normal girl and needed a normal life. It was only natural for her to want those things Harry simply couldn’t extend to her. It was his fault, his dysfunction, his irritability, his depression. And he couldn’t deny he was getting worse with time instead of improving. The nightmares too were getting worse and were starting to quite literary drain his will to get well. It was good actually that Ginny only mentioned his performance in bed. That, be it frustrating was due more to his lack of interest than a real problem. There were other things too. Like looking in mirrors, going out with friends, having fun with anybody really. When he thought about it, he didn’t feel up to anything of late. How could he when all he could think about were the people he’d wronged. And Snape of all people to visit him in his sleep was excruciating. The man once was quite the nightmare even during daytime while Harry’s eyes were wide open and he could defend himself. But it was fair, for him of all people to haunt him. After all, he’d wronged Snape the most, hating him till the very end for all the wrong reasons. Funny how he used to blame him even for Sirius’ death which now, he could finally swallow, was simply a mechanism to cope with his grief.  
All aside, he couldn’t manage to do more than try assuring himself all would be well in the end. Of course now things didn’t seem bright in particular, but he was alive after all, so he could put the pieces together once more.   
He’d just got his NEWTs results and they served to cheer him up a bit because even though they were all Acceptable, this still meant he could pursue any career of his choice which they covered. This and his reputation were enough to pave his way forward in any direction should he choose so. And he was starting to think again about becoming an auror. He was tired of fighting, that was true enough, but thinking of his attitude and life, he couldn’t help but admit it was better for him to be at a dangerous post than for somebody with actual dreams and hopes. Even if he died, it would be worth it and much better than sitting on his couch, drinking firewhiskey. It could also be a decent distraction from the nagging, surfacing thoughts that haunted him.   
Yes, an auror career sounded very tempting.

***

(April 3rd 1999 Saturday)

“I’m just saying. If you don’t do something about it soon, it will be over for good.”, Hermione all but nagged.  
It was three weeks later in his very same rather gloomy living room and Harry was in the exact same position, sprawled on his couch drinking firewhiskey while Hermione sat across the small table from him, eyes intently fixed on his disheveled appearance.  
“Easy for you to say. Let’s pretend me and Ginny have made up. What then? The same damn problems that separated us still stand, Hermione. And I’m not up to anymore changes right now.”  
“I’m starting to suspect the problem is that you don’t want to change, Harry. Do you seriously prefer to continue living like this?”  
“Of course not.”, he sighed. “It’s just that… there’s nothing to do about it. I don’t think I can change even if I wanted to.”  
“I know I’ve said this before, but seriously, Harry, think about seeking help. There’s sure to be someone at St. Mungo’s, or if not – there are muggle specialists –“  
“Oh, stop it at once!”, he said raising his voice slightly. That was Hermione’s solution for everything these days. “I’m all right, am I not? It’s not like I’m insane or anything.”  
“No, but you’re severely depressed!”  
Harry snorted at this. He was aware what depression was in general and felt quite sure Hermione got it wrong for once.  
“Severely depressed? Have you seen a depressed person, Hermione? Now Sirius was depressed, don’t you think? More than me if you think about it, and he still wasn’t what you would call a ‘severely depressed person’. Spare me your dramatics, I’m coping well, I have a life I very much like. I’m not depressed but simply grieving. You should know it takes a different amount of time for every person and on top of that, I didn’t get to live through every bit of it when it was the proper moment. I might just be compensating now. And no, I don’t think it’s such a problem and it’s really getting better these days – since…well since Ginny and I split up.”  
Hermione listened to him frowning and by the end of it seemed deep in thought.  
“You’re right. And it’s not my business to say those –“  
“Will you please get a grip, Hermione? Of course it is your business to say these things and more. You’re concerned for me like any real friend would be. It’s all right. But you should know that no matter how things end up, I won’t be the same person I was before the battle. I wish you all would stop expecting it from me.”  
“We just want to see you happy, Harry.”  
“Yeah…I know. Let’s – just talk about something else.”  
“All right. You know how there’s memorial on the anniversary this year?”  
“Yes, of course I know. Been invited and all.”  
“Yes, me an Ron will be going too. So what do you say we go have a picnic by the lake afterwards?”  
Harry laughed to this.  
“You realize there’s going to be a feast of sorts in the great hall in the evening –“  
“Yes, yes, I know about the feast all right. But there are going to be all sorts of people there and – well, I thought it would be good if we spent a little time together before that, just the three of us.”  
“I see where you’re going with this but if you think an hour of reminiscing will help me in any way, you’re sorely mistaken.”  
“Okay so it wouldn’t help you, but it may help us you know.”  
_‘The world does not revolve around you, Potter. No matter how desperately you crave it.’, a familiar voice resounded in his head._  
“Oh, if that’s the case, sure, I’ll come.”  
“Good.”, smiled Hermione but Harry could tell there was something that still bothered her.  
“Something’s on your mind. Spill.”  
“Well,”, she glanced at him sideways rather reproachfully. “It’s really none of my business –“  
“Oh come on, we’ve been through this already! Just say it; I can see it’s bothering you.”  
“Well, Ginny mentioned something about – well about Snape.”  
“Ah, so she told you all about her little theory about me being actually gay that is the real problem between us, after all.”  
“Uh, if it makes any difference, I didn’t really believe it. But you saying his name in your sleep… I just thought there was something to it.”  
“Yeah, there’s something to it, all right! I’ve simply been having nightmares about the man, Hermione. What Ginny implied was plain disgusting!”  
“What kinds of nightmares? I mean, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to – but I can tell they had some kind of impact on you.”  
“No, they had no such thing.”, Harry lied in hope Hermione would drop it. “I’ve just dreamt of him dying a couple of times, saying it’s all my fault, you know. Nothing Snape wouldn’t have said if he was alive.”  
“Your fault? But you know it isn’t, right?”  
Harry narrowed his eyes a fraction.  
“Well as it wasn’t my pet snake that bit him, I’d say it isn’t. Though I can’t deny it all really comes back to me. Snape wouldn’t have died if Voldemort didn’t want the Elder wand so desperately, and he wanted it because of me, didn’t he?”  
“Still that doesn’t make it your –“  
“Oh drop it already. It’s not what’s bothering me. It’s more of the fact that there’s nothing I can possibly do to set it right that’s been nagging. I don’t really care about fault anymore.”  
“Yes, I can see how that may be frustrating.”  
“It is what it is.”, he said with finality standing up. “Now, I have to go and do some shopping before I’m left with nothing but firewhiskey. You can come along if you like, but I really need to go.”  
Hermione too stood up to leave.  
“Thanks, but I’ll be going. I still haven’t filed my application and I mean to do it before the deadline looms.”  
“Never took you for a procrastinator.”, Harry laughed. “I’ve already signed up for the auror squad.”  
“You have? That’s great, Harry!”  
“Yeah, Kingsley would have hunted me down otherwise. But I thought Ron would have told you, we were together.”  
“No, he couldn’t have. We haven’t seen each other in a week. But that’s great news!”  
“Hermione? Why haven’t you seen each other? I thought everything with you and Ron was going well.”  
“Yes, yes, more than well. We’ve both just been busy. Um, I – I’m so sorry to have come here, talking such silly things to you when it’s obvious now you –“  
Harry hugged her just to shut her up.  
“I’m glad you visited.”

***

May 2nd 1999 Sunday)

A month later found Harry as one of the guests of honor at the memorial for the Battle of Hogwarts. The Great Hall, being the witness of the most determinative part of the battle, was the place where all the people, most of them survivors, gathered. There were as per usual several speeches which formed some kind of ceremony, some food and drinks, and mainly silence. During the proceedings, Harry felt nostalgia envelop him. It was good to come back to what he’s always considered home and still, somehow, it wasn’t enough. It was cruel for both your happiest and saddest memories to merge together in one place such as this. Hogwarts was magic with all the marvelous things it produced, and yet it was death, cold and green. After the ceremony ended, Harry first thought to find Ron and Hermione and to see what would become of their picnic by the lake after all, but then, deciding there was still time to spare, he felt like talking with a certain portrait. So he looked around and when he spotted McGonagall, approached her.  
“Hi, professor.”  
“Potter, it’s good to see you.”  
“You too. Um, I was wondering if I could go up to your office for a moment.”  
“Whatever for?”, she almost snapped.  
“Well, as it is a day to remember those who left us, I was thinking it would be nice to talk to the portrait of Dumbledore for a bit. Just feels like a good way to spend a little time with.”  
“Uh, I suppose it’s all right. The password is ‘Casus catena’.”  
“Thanks, professor.”, Harry smiled and turned to go.  
Along the way, he saw neither of his friends and that put him a little bit off as he rather wanted to make sure they knew where he was, but it couldn’t deter him either way.  
Harry was glad to see the full restoration of the castle on his way up. Especially the gargoyle that now, unlike the last time, seemed lively.  
“Casus catena”, he recited and it stood aside.  
Harry wasn’t sure what he’d expected but was inadvertently relieved to see nothing seemed to have changed much. The office of the headmaster was pretty much the way he remembered it, except of course for the portrait of the last headmaster – and as it was currently void of occupants, it wasn’t really noticeable at all.  
“Dear boy!”, Dumbledore’s voice boomed in the silence effectively startling him out of all thought he may have previously possessed. “It’s good to see you! After all this time to think that you would remember and stop – but what is the matter, Harry? You seem unwell.”  
“I – I do? Well, today’s the anniversary of the battle…”  
“Ah, I see. Many good people died on this day, it is only natural to feel sad.”  
“I just wish –“  
“Yes? You wish for what Harry?”  
“I wish they knew how I felt… that I appreciate their sacrifice, I mean”  
“I’m sure they’d know.”  
“Not all of them, no… I’m – sorry, sir, I’m not sure why I came here but I didn’t mean to whine.”  
“Oh, but whine away my dear boy, whine away!”, Dumbledore beamed and Harry frowned when a familiar feeling emerged inside him. This man, when he was alive always seemed to know exactly what was on Harry’s mind. But portraits couldn’t perform Legilimency, could they? Nah, no longer the case, just as it was with almost everything in his life nowadays.  
“He for one would never know.” He replied tilting his head towards the empty frame.  
“Ah, unless you tell him, I guess not.” Harry’s eyes enlarged at the suggestion, provoking bright chuckles from the portrait. They died away quickly though as Harry looked away with a vacant expression.  
“I’ve come to realize in the past year – that if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be here now – I wouldn’t have been here at all – I… Nobody believed – nobody knew till the very end – that he was on our side. That’s just…”  
“Nobody was supposed to know, Harry. Nobody was supposed to believe. He did what he had to and he did it well, I believe.”  
“So well that he’s – But no, it wasn’t his fault, you’re right – he did it all well to the end. Was it Voldemort’s? Or was it yours?”  
“Harry, you know there is no –“  
“I don’t want to blame anybody, sir. It’s just that I keep thinking that I should have known, I should have realized…”  
“It seems you have been thinking about that issue quite a bit, dear boy.”  
“Yeah… one’s prone to spend some time and think about the dead man that keeps one awake for a year on end, sir.”  
“Ah, true, true, one’s prone to do that… Well, Harry, it was good to see you!” beamed Dumbledore suddenly and when Harry looked at the portrait it seemed different – looked just like an oil painting…that happened to be moving. Dumbledore was long gone. He might as well have been talking to the wall. “Do me a favor and visit my tomb today, would you?”  
Harry nodded absently and turned to leave when another voice stopped him momentarily.  
“Well, well, if it isn’t the great Harry Potter…”  
He froze, at first visibly shocked, not to mention that his breath hitched and he felt ill outrageously quickly. He couldn’t find reason within himself to turn around when everything inside him was screaming to run away. Harry hadn’t foreseen this encounter when he came here and he certainly wasn’t bold enough to speak.  
“Yes, well I should have known now that I no longer pose a corporeal threat of sorts, you would simply – ignore my presence.”  
“Now, Severus –“Dumbledore started without real need to call for damage control as Harry turned around to face the other portrait.  
“As it turns out, all you have to do is sacrifice your life for a brat, and you instantly gain annual visits.”  
“He’s right.”, Harry croaked before Dumbledore could possibly protest. “He’s been right about me all along.”  
“Now Potter, isn’t it a bit too late to turn into a cry baby?” the portrait sneered but it lacked…feeling. “Well, I guess when there are no more dark lords to throw himself at, our little hero must use all the means he possesses to gain the attention of the wizarding world. Do they pity you now, Potter? The boy who lost it all for the greater good… I can see the headlines –“  
“Dead.”, Muttered Harry while staring ahead.  
“What did you say?”  
“Did you – really hate me – that much?”  
“No.”, replied the portrait Snape. “Much more than you can even begin to imagine, you foolish boy –“ he was deterred by a quick and admonishing “Severus” by the portrait of Dumbledore, which didn’t stop him from finishing the thought. “And before you ask – no, I didn’t stop until the last drop of blood left my body.”  
“I see”, whispered Harry and managed to leave before another word was said.

***

He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he heard Snape’s voice, but really he wasn’t expecting that the man had hated him enough in life for the feeling to sink down in the oil. He should have known better, nevertheless – it was Snape after all. Still Harry couldn’t find it in him to be angry about it. Some things never changed and that was the beauty of their particular relationship – Harry could always count on Snape’s hatred. Did he hate him in turn? Once he thought he did – no, once he most certainly did. Now, however, he was simply sad about it. He was even ready to give anything, go to any lengths to erase the damn guilt of a shadow he’d gained for the last year – make it okay, to restore the balance and be free to dislike Snape. One thing was certain – if this continued much longer, he’d go mad and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

***

“Harry!”, he heard Hermione’s voice in the distance and winced. That was a collision Harry wasn’t ready for. He’d planned once he’d calmed down, to take a lone walk on the grounds and think through his messy thoughts of the day. As it was proven to him, the endeavor was quite impossible. “Where were you? I thought you’d left.”  
“Nah, I promised you lunch, didn’t I?” he said, trying for cheerful and almost succeeding.  
“Yes, well – Ronald can’t make it.”, she said seemingly preoccupied enough not to notice his foul mood seeping through the façade.  
“What do you mean he can’t make it? He was here only half an hour ago –“  
“Oy, Harry!”, and behold the wolf approaching. Something was definitely up with those two but he couldn’t care less about that at the moment.  
“Let’s have lunch you guys, and then maybe someone will care enough to explain what I’m missing here.”

***

It turned out this too was a huge mistake on his part. Moreover, it turned out Ron and Hermione had indeed been quarreling to put it mildly during the last couple of weeks and were on the verge of breaking up. As if this news wasn’t enough…  
“I saw you with that Jones woman there – really Ronald you could have at least waited for your mother to turn the other way!”  
“I wasn’t…! Agh, Harry, you were there – tell her I only said “hi”! It’s not my fault she decided this was a good moment to complain about the security on the last match!”  
“Don’t you dare open your mouth, Harry! He wasn’t even there when you two talked – he was… Where exactly were you anyway?”  
Hermione had never before seemed the jealous type to him. She didn’t look like one even now – she seemed to enjoy irking her ex-to-be though. It didn’t suit Harry at all.  
“I was up to the headmistress’ office – to say hi to Dumbledore.”  
“Oh that’s nice of you – you should have said, I’d have come with you. What did you talk about?”  
“Nothing much.”  
“Did you get to see – you know – other portraits there?”  
“Yep, unfortunately they saw me too.”  
“And?”  
“And what? What do you expect to hear Hermione? We forgave each other and lived happily ever after? He told me he hates me more than I can imagine, always has and as it turns out – his portrait always will. Is that enough information?”  
“Oh-“  
“Yeah, sorry mate, she’s always like that. You don’t know what it was like living with her –“  
“That’s enough! I’m sick of you guys – it’s hard enough as it is! What happened with you two? No, forget it, it’s not my business – I don’t know what you’ve done to get Hermione so mad at you, but I don’t sympathize – at all.”

***

Maybe – just maybe – a senile portrait of a dead headmaster was a better choice for advisor than his best friends combined. Yet another change added to his perfect little life. And as he thought of portraits, his feet somehow took him to the tomb a certain dead man had recommended for a visit.  
“I’m right, aren’t I? I must have made a mistake on the way for things to end up like this.”, he felt the least to say stupid kneeling there, talking to the marble but perhaps he needed to hear his own thoughts for them to start to make sense in his head. “I feel like – my life’s not my own anymore – how did this happen? ‘Don’t pity the dead, pity the living and above all those who live without love’”, he cited with a disgusted expression. “Did Snape ever find love? How could he when he’d spent all his adult life loving a dead woman – taking care of her child, even though he hated it…”, Why did he have to jump to thoughts of Snape immediately when it came to dead people? Yeah, right, like he wasn’t thinking of Snape almost constantly during the past year… “It’s just – too unfair… If he was alive, I could do something – reciprocate for all those years he… Dead…for me to live. No, not even for me to live – without a proper reason – on a damn stupid whim of a psychopath! There was no reason… ah… I don’t understand – how can his death move me more than my own problems after all this time?”  
Harry gave up on verbalizing and rested his head on the tombstone. He felt tired, so very tired of feeling things without reason. The minutes passed slowly until something glittering through the grass grabbed his attention. He moved slightly to see better and frowned when he found his own face there. ‘Erised? Yeah I’m officially off my rocker. Erised, on the ground – lying beside Dumbledore’s tomb. How stupid for a first hallucination.’ He laughed aloud and moved closer. “Shouldn’t I be seeing my heart’s desire? I only see myself staring back…ah. Does that mean I’m the happiest man alive?”  
“Do you wish to see your heart’s desire?” a haunting voice asked, almost startling him out of his reverie.  
‘Great – a voice to accompany the visual! I may like the madman’s life – quite interesting so far.”  
Nothing whatsoever happened next, if one does not count a Harry Potter staring down at nothing in particular, yet totally fascinated.  
“Tell me, what do I desire?” he asked after a fashion. It wasn’t nice when your imagination depended on your prompt – it was a rather tiring experience.  
“Wouldn’t it be better if I showed you? Wouldn’t it be even better if I took you there?”  
“There? Where?” Wasn’t asking your own imagination questions at least a little bit sad?  
“Why to your heart’s desire, silly. But you won’t be able to come back.”  
“How do you even know what I desire when I myself have no idea?” he frowned no longer liking the hallucination.  
“Easy. If it isn’t I can’t take you to it. If it is, then I will.”  
“Easy you say…” Harry had no idea what this meant. “Okay, take me – anywhere’s better than here anyways.” he muttered further.  
Third mistake for one day – and as thirds go, it was a crucial one. The ground beneath his feet disappeared – not that he needed it, it seemed. In a flash, everything was gone but he himself and the mirror in front of him. In its surface now stood Snape in full height.  
“You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone or it will leave you behind.”  
And with this very enlightening line of advice, everything vanished, including Harry himself. 


	2. Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

He found himself, as always, in the Great Hall. All the expletives have left him it seemed for he only found himself capable of awe as he gathered he was once again in his eleven year old body. He tried to voice all the curse words bubbling inside him to no luck. He seemed to be unable to speak of for that matter move. He glanced at the teachers’ table only to find the twinkling eyes of Dumbledore – alive and well and so utterly impossible as well as the scrutinizing gaze of Snape – full of venom but life as well and fuck it, this had to be his destiny because he hadn’t felt as good in at least a year.  
“POTTER, Harry”, McGonagall called and his feet hurried on without his permission to the front of the room. _“Leave the rest alone or it will put you behind…”_ he thought. Okay, so he was incapable of doing anything. Now _that_ was a nightmare.  
The hat was put on him but instead of what it’d done the last time, now it seemed mute.  
„ You can’t put me in Slytherin”, he said calmly to the Sorting hat, elated that he could speak at all.  
“I can’t put you anywhere. You’re already a Gryffindor.”  
So, this was it. He was eleven again but with very limited input. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone...or it will leave you behind. So he was supposed to speak with Snape - at least the picture had shown Snape. Otherwise, he had no say in the events. Okay, it was something, if very constricting. “Would you do me a favor then?”, he said to the hat at last.  
“Why? What?”  
“Could you shout Gryffindor for them? They seem to expect me to be put somewhere…”  
“What? Ah..sure…GRYFFINDOR!”  
Harry sighed and battled the urge to turn around and see Snape’s reaction to his placement. But it hasn’t been part of the original timeline and so it wouldn’t be in this one, he ventured. Most probably Snape wasn’t surprised. James had been in Gryffindor and so was…ah…so was she. _Look at me._ No, he wasn’t going to. Not until it was absolutely necessary.  
He didn’t hear the cries of the other lions as he stepped away from the podium and off to the Gryffindor table. There at last he sneaked a peek at the high table. So much distance and so much hatred stood between him and Snape. Would he ever be able to cut it? Why was he here at all and what did he hope to achieve?  
Thankfully it was Ron’s turn so his attention turned to him. He clapped along with the others and then, after congratulating Ron sank into himself once more. Suddenly he felt a nudge in his stomach coming…from within? Oh…sure. His scar was supposed to burn right about… now. He turned to look at Quirrell and of course Snape…Snape whose expression as usual was full of…loathing.  
_**“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.  
“What is it?” asked Percy.  
“N-nothing.”**_

***

Once in his well-remembered four-poster bed, Harry sighed deeply trying to reign in the cacophony of what was happening. Too busy with light, noises and people, he had barely stopped to think what this meant. He hadn’t had a single drop of firewhiskey today and yet… _“You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone or it will leave you behind”_ The words echoed in his mind. He’d felt it – the compelling urge to repeat history exactly as it had happened. He couldn’t talk with Ron, he couldn’t speak with Neville, nor anyone really, freely – he could just… repeat. Tonight, when he’d seen Scabbers for the first time, his hands itched to strangle – and yet he could only repeat what had already been done, had been said, and nothing more. And when he’d tried…he felt the incredible urge to repeat things as they’d been. He’d tried not to, he had to at least try – but then he’d been transported forward to a place where Scabbers was no longer in the room. “Touch only what you have to save…”, he mused. Maybe Snape was the answer – nevertheless he would find that soon enough.

***

Harry wasn’t sure but thought it was likely he would be able to push forward some creativity over the instance in which Snape bullied him for the first time. Only, he wasn’t sure if it would be the best course of action. And that wasn’t all he was worried about. His older soul seemed to react a bit odd with his eleven years old body. So much that he proved to be absolutely unable to look Snape in the eyes, something he thought he imagined until this day. He was proving to be too emotional to top it all.  
So when on the roll call, Snape paused at his name, Harry wished he was fighting Voldemort once more.  
 _  
**“Ah, Yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.”**   
_  
Harry who was staring at the far wall with blank expression was startled as he felt a tear run down his cheek on its own volition. Fuck.  
 _  
**“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,”**   
_he began. Harry barely registered he started the old speech. His voice reminded him too much of… _  
**“— if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”**   
_  
He wished he could be a dunderhead if that would make this man happy enough to stop torturing him, be it unknowingly. But he couldn’t be a dunderhead this time around, no.  
 _  
**“Potter!”**   
_ said Snape at last. Harry closed his eyes in trepidation. _  
**“What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”**   
_  
“Draught of Living Death, sir.” – Harry bowed his head but didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to know the reaction his answer provoked. As it obviously wasn’t a verbal response, he remained calm.  
 _  
**“Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?**   
_  
Silence fell. Harry went back…or was it forth to his sixth year when Ron was poisoned on his birthday. And the poison wasn’t meant for him. And then it was Snape there and everything…  
But this was good, definitely, the mirror made sense now – he could only touch what he had to save. Could this mean that he had a real chance of saving Snape?  
“You don’t know, do you Potter?”  
Snape’s voice made him snap out of the daydream.  
“In the stomach of a goat, sir”  
“And why pray tell, didn’t you say so when I first asked?”, the silky tones of his voice where dangerous now.  
Harry wanted to look him in the eyes and retort _“It wouldn’t give me the undivided attention from everybody in this room that I so obviously crave, would it, sir?!”_ But instead he lifted his head only to stare back at the wall.  
“I wasn’t sure I was supposed to, sir.”  
It was no good. He would think the same of him and Harry knew it. How did this man manage to evoke this much in him still? It wasn’t even what he’d said now. The mere memory of the class and the silky hateful voice itself brought Harry back to the shack and to the inevitable conclusion that he would hate him soon once again anyway.  
He was certain Snape’s eyes were slits now, especially after he added, “Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Potter.”, but at least he left him alone.  
As the the hour passed, Harry realized he couldn’t leave it like that. Perhaps Snape’s continual hatred of him was at least a part his fault. As the others stood to leave, he found himself telling Ron he would catch up in a minute. After he was sure he was the only one left, he went over to Snape’s desk and bowed his head again.  
“Sir?”  
Snape’s head snapped up from the text he was reading and Harry could feel the black eyes fixed on the top of his head.  
“What is it?”, the tone didn’t suggest invitation in the least.  
“I wanted…to apologize, professor. I offended you in class. I didn’t mean it.”  
The fact that Snape didn’t interrupt him immediately was strange in itself, the thoughtful silence was a bit too much.  
“Look at me, when you speak, Mr. Potter.”, he said quietly.  
Harry’s hands trembled and he squeezed them in fists. _Don’t ever say that.  
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t.”, he replied shakily and ran out of the dungeon. What the…_

***

“Look at me”  
Was it such a heavy phrase really? Had Harry grown to be so averse to it that he now found himself physically unable to look?  
What chance did he have to save a man he couldn't even really see? There had to be something else to it. Those dark orbs were penetrating and Merlin, Harry could remember vividly. And Snape could somehow always see beyond Harry’s lies, deep into his thoughts when he so desired. Merlin, was it Legilimency?  
Harry had to think. If he was allowed aberrations to history as much as Snape was concerned, he had to think carefully to everything that was supposed to happen this year in order to act smart.

***

As time passed, Harry only saw Snape in classes. And it wasn’t much seeing from his part either. He was starting to feel like a school girl, but no matter what, he couldn’t make himself look him straight in the eyes. And on the other hand, the nightmares continued consistently, sometimes more than one per night. They were like a routine by now as was his staring at the far wall for the most part in Potions. If Snape noticed this, he didn’t comment. On the contrary, he seemed determined not to notice Harry’s presence in his classroom. Rather like in his fifth year when he saw his worst memory in the pensieve. That was a thought that would serve to change the theme of his nightmares soon enough.  
And as time passed, Harry was awaiting with trepidation the end of the term. Of course it happened the same way. Fate wouldn’t let him change anything of importance. And so he found himself next to a knocked-out troll on the eve of Halloween. Snape was there of course, and he again was bitten by Fluffy while trying to prevent Quirrell from procuring the stone. Harry’s gaze went straight to Snape’s leg and didn’t waver for the whole conversation. He weighted the pros and cons in his head once again and decided not to miss a chance when he was offered one.  
So later that evening, way after curfew, he took his cloak on and went down to the ground floor. And there Snape was, limping visibly along the corridor. Harry dropped to one knee, took out the small oval box from his pocket, and rolled it forward on the stone floor. Snape turned at the sound to see the box next to his feet. He bent down and picked it up with an inscrutable expression, took off the lid and sniffed suspiciously. Harry averted his eyes but otherwise didn’t dare move lest he made a sound and betrayed his position. When he heard the sound of steps, he finally looked up only to see Snape’s back as he went off in the other direction.  
The next time Harry saw him was as he remembered, the day before his first to be Quidditch match. Though he didn’t limp this time, he noticed.  
 _  
**“What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?”**   
_  
_Ah, nothing else has changed apparently. Harry sighed and showed him Quidditch through the ages._  
 _  
**“Library books are not to be taken outside the school,”**   
_ said Snape. _  
**“Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.”**   
_  
As he walked away, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, “See you up in the dorm, okay?”  
They looked a bit puzzled but he didn’t really care. If it was actually important, fate wouldn’t let him say it, would it? As it was, he ran after Snape.  
“Professor!”, he didn’t even slow down. “Please, sir, wait!” Snape’s back straightened and he halted.  
“What,” he said slowly and deliberately, “is it that you want, Mr. Potter”, he made his name sound as an insult.  
“Have I done something wrong, sir?”, Harry asked, eyes glued to a potted plant on the right of Snape, expression vacant. It wouldn’t do to have these particular emotions he felt now show on his face in front of Snape.  
“As I said,” his voice full of distaste, ”Library books…”  
“What have I done to deserve your hatred?”, Harry choked on the words and tilted his head to the side angry with himself for the way he was acting. Snape would surely think he was so spoiled he thought he could gain what he wanted with a few tears.  
As it was, the Potions Master gained a hold of his chin and attempted to tilt his head so Harry would face him. The boy trembled and took a step backwards.  
“Potter,” said Snape warningly, “I hate repeating myself. Look at me when you address me!”  
Fuck. The final straw…as usual.  
“No.”, Harry muttered.  
“What do you mean ‘no’”  
“I mean please don’t make me ‘no’”, his voice shook and then backtracked. “I’m sorry it was a mistake to enter this conversation...obviously, sir, if you’ll excuse me, I..”  
Snape didn’t stop him this time, but he was sure his luck wouldn’t last for long. Snape knew Harry was hiding something and he had pinpointed from the start that the boy couldn’t look him in the eye for some reason. This therefore had to change, Harry thought while running up the staircase, but how, he didn’t have the slightest. What he was about to do tomorrow in the match wouldn’t help either he realized as he distantly remembered Snape spitting in anger on the ground after Harry had caught the snitch. Well that was one thing he wouldn’t bother to change for him.

***

As time passed Harry remembered he was supposed to start brooding over the mirror of Ersied any time now. Nothing was different so far and he was getting a bit desperate. He hadn’t made any progress about the eye-contact thing either, though Harry was determined that in the next class he would look Snape in the eyes even if it tortured him to madness. He was good enough in Occlumency that he could fend against wandless, or at least non-verbal attempt from Snape, so there was only the psychological thingy to be fought.  
So when he heard the overly familiar swishing of robes in the Potions classroom, he deliberately looked up and fixed his gaze on Snape. Surprisingly the dread he felt slowly dissipated, partly perhaps because the Potions Master was so used to Potter staring at a wall, he didn’t bother to stare at him anymore. It was as if he didn’t exist and…It was…refreshing. And quite different from what he remembered. Perhaps it was the aftermath of a year and a half of nightmares of the man, but seeing him in this usual situation made him seem…human, normal, not quite the overgrown bat either. Snape’s head snapped towards him in silence and his eyes widened a fraction when he first locked the boy’s stare. Harry scrutinized every line on his professor’s face as if trying to commit it to memory with the hope it wouldn’t feed a new nightmare. Snape seemed lost in the gaze till he snapped his head away the same way as before and began his lecture. Harry watched him for a few more moments and then his gaze drifted off to the usual spot on the wall.  
They were doing Shrinking Solution today. Just as well, Harry thought and went to business a bit overloaded with emotion for the day. He thanked fate his Potions skills weren’t counted as something important and so he could scrape a perfect potion. The irony was beautiful and Harry couldn’t help think what Snape would’ve said if he found out his precious subject wasn’t deemed deserving attention by the stars. But he didn’t get to laugh at the thought for too long. At the end of the class Snape as usual went to see the students’ progress. When he came to Harry’s cauldron, the boy averted his eyes. Not because it hurt him to look, but out of respect really, he told himself. Too close to look, it would’ve been awkward.  
“Potter, stay after class.”, he muttered and went to the next cauldron.  
Harry sighed internally and stood motionless until they were quite alone ten minutes after.  
Whatever he expected, it wasn’t for Snape to leave to his private stores. He wondered for a second if he was supposed to follow but the Potions Master returned shortly with several phials in his hands which he lined on Harry’s desk.  
“Name them from left to right.”, Snape commanded .  
He blinked and stared. It was easy after they all had been practically drilled in his head by a certain Potions Master.  
“Veritaserum, sir. Looks like water, tastes like one…or rather doesn’t. And prompts the drinker to tell the truth..rather forcefully.”, as Snape didn’t interrupt him, he went on to the next one which he uncorked. The vile smell made him back away. “Draught of living death, sir. Very strong…smashed sopophurus beans?”, he ventured. Okay this was a bit too much – he only knew that because of the Half-Blood Prince’s book but he took the chance. He went on naming Skele-gro, Pain Reliever, Strengthening Solution, and finally what he would never mistake – Polijuice potion. Harry then looked up to see Snape’s blank expression.  
“Why is it that you know what you know of potions, Potter?”, Snape asked it seemed despite his better judgment.  
Harry blinked repeatedly trying to decipher any trap this question might hold. There didn’t seem to be any.  
“It is an interest of mine, sir.”, he said in what he hoped was a respectful tone. Well it was the truth alright. At least it would have been if his professor hadn’t been such a git the last time around. Snape looked defeated.  
“Would you then…care,”, he sighed, “to have additional lessons in the subject?”  
Oh. So that was it. Dumbledore forced Snape to do this.  
“Would you want me to ‘care’, sir?”, he asked uncertain.  
“This isn’t the point, Potter!”, he snapped angrily.  
“Well it could be. If you don’t want to spend some of your free time teaching me of all people, you could say to professor Dumbledore I’m doing good in the subject but I don’t much care for the additional work.”, he replied calmly. Snape stared at him and Harry stared back. He had nothing to hide…at least nothing Snape could gather without casting a dark spell aloud.  
“You would do that? Why?”, Snape hissed at last.  
“For a simple exchange of course, sir. I wish to know the answer to my question, nothing more.”  
“…and why do you care for the answer?”  
“So I can redeem what I’ve obviously done wrong, professor.”  
Harry was sure he could hear _insufferable, little_ , but no real sentence, just these and other words lined up out of his mouth in a scowl.  
“I don’t trust people who won’t even look in my direction when they address me.”  
“Lie. That’s not it.”, Harry narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t take excuses.  
“What? You dare…”  
“I dare, yes. It is a lie. Do you deny it?”  
Snape stared at him with incredulity for a few long moments until he reached a decision.  
“Fine.”, his mouth was a straight line. ”You remind me…of someone.”  
Harry nodded, not sure it was really a progress at all but it was at least something.  
“Thank you.”  
“You don’t care who?”  
Harry smiled crookedly. “I’m sure the person is simply vile.”, and he turned to leave.  
“Am I to understand you refuse the offer?”  
Harry stopped for a second to answer, “Whatever you want, professor Snape.” And he left.

***

_Did I do the right thing? He could’ve gotten used to me and I would’ve gotten time with him alone, maybe we could talk, maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much after he started to know me…_  
Harry tossed his head left and right but the thoughts were stuck in his mind and nothing short of an answer would get them out.  
Finally he gave up on sleep when he felt the now familiar gut feeling. He was supposed to do something right now. It was time to go to the library, not find anything and then bump into Snape, Filch and the mirror of Erised. Sure why not. He was tempted to miss on the library part as it was a waste of time, but was pretty sure it wouldn’t do.  
There he was, in the forbidden section, reading a dark arts book for no reason at all but pure boredom. He went so far as to ask himself whether Voldemort became such an evil megalomaniac exactly because he was too bored to do anything else. The thought didn’t help at all of course. In the end he dutifully dropped the lamp and ran. And sure enough not after long, he heard Filch’s voice and knew well enough who he was talking to.  
 _  
**“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library Restricted Section.”**   
_  
Harry sighed. Surely Snape would forgo any dilemma he might have had about extra lessons.  
 _ **“The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.”**  
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead.  
_  
He backed away as he remembered the first time it happened pretty clearly and got himself behind the door luckily set ajar. He listened for the two men until their footsteps died away and then turned around. There was the mirror and strangely enough it didn’t excite him in the least. Perhaps he was older now or…perhaps he was filled with trepidation about what would face him on the surface. It was fifteen minutes of fidgeting before he looked and it was a second later that he screamed a violent _‘NO!’_.  
He was still panting when he remembered where he was and looked around rapidly. It was too late though, he wasn’t alone anymore.  
” Show yourself” if Harry thought that Snape would give up and go, he was a fool, “Take off the invisibility cloak… _Potter_ ”, he hissed angrily. _Oh fuck._  
Harry stepped out of the shadows and dropped the cloak to reveal himself.  
“Well, well… what do you have to say for yourself, Potter?”  
“I…”, Harry felt as if his breath was sucked out of his lungs. The vision was still there in the mirror surface waiting for him. Could a heart’s desire be so horrible? He couldn’t want this without knowing it, he couldn’t accept…  
“How very eloquent.”, Snape sneered. “Get up and get out.”  
But Harry couldn’t move just yet. He couldn’t make himself look at Snape just now. It was really a bit too much considering everything.  
“A moment, please.”, he croaked and felt Snape’s penetrating gaze on himself. “Just..a moment, sir.”  
Snape waited a few seconds but the boy didn’t move. He seemed to be in a kind of a trance.  
“What is it Potter?”, he snapped.  
“The…the mirror, sir.”, he practically pleaded.  
It seemed it was just now that Snape noticed its existence in the room, so he moved closer and a second later gasped audibly. Then it was silence, but before Harry could lift his head, he was grabbed by the arm and pushed through the door up to the grand staircase. Snape didn’t say anything until they were in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
“A week’s detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow, eight o’clock in my office. Is that clear?”  
“Yes, sir.”, Harry muttered and hurried to enter the dorm.  
This whole night he would not sleep.

***

One night of course wasn’t even close to enough time for considering either what had happened, nor what he was supposed to do next. He felt like going to the mirror and begging it to let him start the year over. And what was more, if what he saw in the Erised mirror was true (and yes, as the nagging voice in his head supplied, it certainly was the truth as a mirror didn’t have anything to gain by lying to him), he should back off immediately and revise his plan. But how could he possibly back off from Snape when he was to attend detentions with him the whole week?  
After much consideration the whole night and a part of the following day, he ended up scolding himself for wasting his time on his pitiful condition. He was here to change things. He was supposed to get Snape to trust him enough so he could end up saving his life instead of hearing those horrible three words again. No, he wouldn’t waste time ascertaining his emotions.  
With this decision he went to sleep. When he woke up it was almost time for his detention. Dressing quickly, he gathered a pair of gloves and a quill (as Snape hadn’t specified what his work would entail) and set at a quick pace down to the dungeons. A bit early, he wiped his wet palms on his jeans, knocked and waited.  
“Enter.”, Snape’s sharp tone served to carry the command beyond the closed door and Harry stepped inside. “You’re early, Potter.”, he said briskly and continued grading a paper. “Sit.”  
Harry complied and waited for what felt like an hour until the professor finished all the papers on his desk and stood up. “Follow me.”, he said and went through the side door of the office. As Harry entered the other room, he found out he was now in a lab that was frankly way better equipped than their usual Potions classroom. He smiled weakly as he realized where Snape had inadvertently allowed him entrance.  
“I thought,”, he began, “as you’re not a complete dunderhead,”, he narrowed his eyes. It was obvious how much it annoyed him to be pushed to pay a compliment to Harry of all people. “I could put you to a different use for the duration of your detention. As it is,” Snape’ eyes travelled through the small room, “You’ll be brewing the potions I require for three hours every evening.” He stopped and fixed his gaze upon Harry who nodded immediately.  
“What would it be tonight, sir?”, he asked while looking over the ingredients. He remembered with trepidation his fifth year. “It’s not Draught of Peace, is it, sir?”, Snape only smirked and nodded. “But why…I mean it is a very difficult potion, professor. Should I be making it?”  
“Well, Mr. Potter, do you have any idea in which year is the Shrinking solution studied normally?”  
Harry gulped. So that’s where he made a mistake. He shook his head.  
“Third.”, Snape supplied. “Now stop complaining and get to work. Here are the instructions,” he pointed at the book that laid open at the table and sat in the chair opposite of Harry and the cauldron. “Do begin sometime soon, won’t you.”  
Harry blinked and studied the text closely. A thought started nagging in the back of his head. It was odd there were no markings on the text.  
What he was about to do was too foolish to even consider, so maybe that’s why he didn’t.  
“Professor?”, he tiptoed above the cauldron so to see the top of Snape’s head.  
“Yes?”, he replied lazily.  
“You’re not about to think about something very important in the next couple of hours, are you?”  
Snape’s head snapped in the direction of the boy’s voice.  
“What are you on about, Potter?”  
“I was wondering if it would be completely obnoxious of me to ask you to read the instructions for me. I’m afraid my eyes hurt and I might make a mistake.”, which of course was a blatant lie that would serve to bring a couple of bonuses if not his early death.  
“Very well.”, Snape said somewhat resignedly and standing up he took the book and started to read the first instruction.

***

It went well considering what could have been. Of course Snape supplied nasty remarks here and there but overall Harry for the first time in his life succeeded in making something as complicated as Draught of Peace. In the end when Snape looked down and smirked saying it was passable, Harry felt light as a feather. He didn’t dare thank his professor though, out of fear Snape would decide it was too much fun for him to be doing for a detention work. He only nodded respectfully and bid him good night.  
When he went to bed though there was nothing to stop him to kick himself. He could count three to five times he lost all thought listening to Snape’s voice reading. It was a miracle he managed to produce the potion out of the first try. Well alright, the second try.

***

That night the nightmare changed. It still contained the image of Snape – it seemed quite impossible now to exclude him, but it had morphed into something that looked way more like the image the mirror of Erised had given him and a most inappropriate dream for an eleven year old to be having.  
The next day, not as shaken as he thought he should be, Harry forwent the breakfast for the sake of going to the library and reading second and fifth years potions books. He felt he should be progressing gradually from year to year but was sure at the same time Snape would want to continue with more difficult potions.  
As it turned out he was partially right but marginally wrong. That is, yes, Snape wanted to continue with more difficult potions and he too had gathered it was for the best if they progressed gradually… so he made Harry brew a sixth year potion that night. He was starting to appreciate the genius that Hermione was as he struggled to brew Draught of Living Death. Meanwhile Snape watched his every move closely making him flinch the few times he chose to draw a sharp breath when Harry was about to drop ingredients in the cauldron. As he reached for the silver knife though, Snape resumed his seat across the cauldron and didn’t look at all until the boy declared he was quite finished. The Potions Master chose not to comment but pursed his lips and crossed his arms.  
At the end of it, Harry gulped and hurried to gather his things. What would Snape do to him next night? Make him brew a NEWT level potion? There at last Harry expected he would fail and restore the balance as it was obvious Snape wasn’t at all happy with the knowledge and skill the insufferable Boy Who Lived seemed to possess. This wasn’t working though. He was supposed to try and get close to the professor, gain his trust with time and maybe earn enough points so that he could save his life when the time came. With the way things were going Harry was starting to wonder if Snape wouldn’t be perfectly happy to sacrifice his life in the name of ridding himself from the Potter nuisance.

***

The next morning Harry went straight to the library again, this time studying carefully the seventh year curriculum in potions. Though at the fifth hour of reading he had to admit it didn’t prepare him the least and he still felt just as sure that he would fail whichever potion Snape assigned him. He missed lunch altogether, but managed to go to dinner for a quick bite much to the amazement of the remaining staff members to which he was oblivious as his mind was overly consumed by anxiety.  
But when he went to Snape’s office and knocked no one answered. He sat there for what felt like a couple of hours until finally the door opened.  
“Your detention is over, Potter. Now go to your dorm and don’t bother returning tomorrow.”, Snape said coldly and shut the door.  
Harry blinked a few times staring at the wood ahead disbelieving. Snape could be such an unreasonable prick sometimes…well alright, often. He started at leisurely pace the walk back to his dorm thinking frantically. He had overdone it of course and had inadvertently shown Snape he outshined him in potions which when he thought about it was pretty stupid of him. The man had practically had one pride in his life and now it was taken away by the clone of his most hated enemy. Which clone was really a dunderhead and should have stayed one for the sake of fragile peace. What could he do to minimize the damage now?  
He was at the foot of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady when a voice startled him out of his musings.  
“Ah , Harry, good evening. A word please,” Harry turned and cocked his head at the headmaster as this was a first, but followed nonetheless. “Is something on your mind, my dear boy?”  
He thought about it and when certain he would be able to speak his worry, he replied.  
“Professor Snape ended my detention.”  
“So he said he would.”, Dumbledore answered thoughtfully. “Am I to take it you don’t agree with his decision?”  
“No.”, Harry hastened to say. “I’m sure he has his reasons…”  
“But,”, the headmaster prompted and Harry was tempted to send a glare his way. This man could be infuriating but on the other hand there had to be a reason he was here as he wasn’t the first time around, not to Harry’s memory at least.  
“It was the best detention I’ve ever had.”, he said quietly.  
To his annoyance the headmaster smiled at this and said “I see.” The conversation dead, the boy was escorted back to his common room and left to himself.  
As Harry went to bed he found himself hoping Dumbledore might say something to Snape and change his mind and cursed himself for putting hope just there.

***

It was as though he hadn’t changed anything. Time progressed and the only indication something was different was Snape trying not to notice him whenever they crossed paths.  
He witnessed dutifully the exchange with Quirrell and started plotting the saving of the stone without mentioning the DADA professor as the culprit.  
It was surprising however that it still happened.  
 _  
**“But what can we —”  
Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron wheeled round.  
Snape was standing there.  
“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly.  
They stared at him.  
“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile.  
“We were —” Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.  
“You want to be more careful,” said Snape. “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it?”  
Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.  
“Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.”  
He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.  
**   
_  
This was the final straw. Harry decided to let Snape be for the duration of the year. After all he had five more to earn his trust and he was pretty sure he needed much more time in contemplation before acting as the facts had shown plainly.

***

He wasn’t as surprised as was proper that the events unfolded much the same way. Harry felt indignant, surely something should have been changed at this point.  
When Dumbledore explained to him Snape’s motivations in the aftermath, he felt dazed. He should have seen it the first time around. Snape had a very difficult task to do and he had to keep up appearances as well as save Harry’s life on every turn. He felt he owed the man to try and not get killed more often than necessary. Still, whatever he did didn’t seem to make impact on events whatsoever. 


	3. Year 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

**Chapter 2**

As time passed on number 4 Privet Drive, Harry started realizing more and more that he was woefully unequipped to deal with his situation. What had sounded as an enticing, be it vague proposal from Erised, was in fact very much a trial of patience.

He’d gotten past one year of his life on almost perpetual repeat of events already unfolded long ago. He’d gotten a mere few and brief opportunities to actually do or say something and when he looked back, he couldn’t find any evidence that he’d made whatsoever difference with his words and actions.

“Touch only what you have to save” had turned out to be a very strict rule, with clenching gut feelings when he was about to deviate, and if he could not remember clearly what to say or how to act, he’d been reduced to what could only be described as fast-forwarding of the events. During those times he’d felt much like a passenger in his own body and the nauseous physical feeling was the least of his concerns. His friends were eleven, even if he could speak to them, he couldn’t think of anything to say. The things that interested them now were too childish to reconcile. All the more, the major events in his own life did not pertain to any modification. He was helpless to do something about Scabbers, or Voldemort, or even save the unicorn. 

Even with Snape, where he supposedly could make a difference, Harry felt very much out of his depth. The man had this determination to hate him going on and Harry very much doubted that Snape’s attitude even depended on his input. He seemed to draw a picture of Harry without actually looking at him – and what little he saw could only serve to confirm his most negative presumptions.

Even so, Harry couldn’t deny that the listlessness he’d felt after the final battle had all but vanished. Even in this strange situation, even unable to share his thoughts or change anything, he relished seeing all the people he would come to lose later on the way. He’d even managed to make precious few but all the same new memories with Snape and with Dumbledore.

Harry had thought that if he acted differently, he could perhaps make Snape not hate him so much. It seemed however that Harry had no idea what was the right thing to do or say when it came to the man. He couldn’t point out a single person Snape actively liked for a reference. Well, besides of course his mother. Yet Harry didn’t know enough about her in order to guess what she’d done for him to like her. Then again perhaps she didn’t do anything in particular. Perhaps she’d just been in the right place at the right time.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in the right place at the right time? It seemed to him, he might be already too late. 

Perhaps Harry was thinking about it wrong, perhaps the man was always meant to hate him and this had nothing to do with saving him. That being so, Snape remained the only person to whom Harry could actually talk.

During vacation on Privet Drive, Harry had ample time to think and not much else… well at least if one didn’t count nightmares as an occupation.

He had six years and almost no resources to save one life. And all he could seem to change so far, was himself.

***

 ** _“Hang on…” Harry muttered to Ron_** **before he could stop himself from uttering. _“There’s an empty chair at the staff table…Where’s Snape?”_**

**_“Maybe he’s ill”_** he added before Ron had a chance to say the same line and leave him with: 

**_“Or he might have been sacked!” said Ron enthusiastically. “I mean, everyone hates him —”_**

 ** _“Or maybe,” said a very cold voice right behind them, “he’s waiting to hear why you two didn’t arrive on the school train.”_**

Harry shivered and turned around meeting Snape’s eyes a bit apologetically. It didn’t work though, not that he really hoped it would. The professor seemed viciously satisfied with their situation exactly as the first time around.

They followed Snape to his office

 ** _“So,” he said softly, “the train isn’t good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?”_**

 ** _“No, sir, it was the barrier at King’s Cross, it —”_**

“Of course.”, Harry said at the same time much quieter than Ron though. After he exchanged a brief glare with the professor, he let his eyes stare at the far wall as he knew what was coming.

 ** _“Silence!” said Snape coldly. “…Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?” he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. “Dear, dear…his own son…”_**

Harry rolled his eyes and waited some more as Snape went on to enlist the Whomping Willow of all things as another innocent victim of their, no doubt, gruesome crimes.

“It was my fault, sir.”, he said mildly and he winced at the contrast with Snape’s tone.

The professor whirled to look at him, his expression murderous.

“Explain Potter.” He snarled.

Harry sighed. Snape was not going to hear him, he could see that plainly.

“My aunt and uncle hate magic. They refused to let me come back and locked me in my room. Ron merely helped me escape.”

One of Snape’s eyes trembled looking at him. Harry vaguely remembered one of his doing just that when he’d swallowed a Bertie Bott’s bean tasting of ear wax.

“Enough with the theatrics, Potter!”, he spat **. _“Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here.”_**

Harry sighed facing his white-faced friend who no doubt believed they would be expelled tonight. He couldn’t even laugh to assuage his fears.

Instead he stood up, taking in the cold grey feeling of the room committing to memory the phials on the shelves, the unlit fireplace, the less than soft chair, the stones on the wall in the hopes to understanding better the cold vicious man he was struggling to save.

Behind the big desk, invisible to Ron who was deep inside his head in worry, he pulled a drawer and dropped a small parcel beside parchment and spare quills.

Ten minutes later Snape returned with their Head of House later followed by Dumbledore.

Harry stood there cataloguing Snape’s expressions, wondering how it was possible for such a delight to be derived by the possibility of the expulsion of a twelve-year-old. But of course it could not. Snape wasn’t expelling him after all. He was expelling James Potter. Harry could remember clearly enough only one other occasion he saw such malicious glee on this face and it had been on the night Sirius was supposed to receive the dementors’ kiss. Harry shuddered internally at the thought of his professor rejoicing at his own death.

In the end, Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. 

***

Later that evening found Snape staring at the suspicious unmarked package in his drawer. He had already cast every revealing charm he could think of and it was quite clear the thing, whatever it was, wasn’t jinxed. Still it was too suspicious to open. Snape sighed and undid the cover to reveal a dusty book with a faded burgundy cover. He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the volume as if daring it to do a back-flip. As it didn’t do anything strange, Snape lifted it up and stared in disbelief. It was a tome he’d never seen before in what looked to be Greek. Intrigued, he opened the cover of “Σκοτεινών Τεχνών: Φιλοσοφία” and a note fell off on his desk.
    
    
     _I hope you find it as illuminating as I did_
    
    
    _P.S. The pages are fragile_

Snape reread the strange note a couple of times before squishing it and throwing it in the waste-bin. He took the book and examined it carefully. It did indeed look fragile and poorly maintained. There was dried blood on the back cover. 

He spent the rest of the evening pretending it wasn’t there.

***

Harry spent the next few weeks blissfully free of Slytherin heir’s monster in studying Occlumency and potions at every available moment. As for the potions classes Snape’s attitude towards him couldn’t be described as anything but strange. The professor no longer pretended not to notice him, on the contrary, he stared at him it seemed in every moment which he couldn’t fill with more productive business. He also got to point out every single mistake Harry made and didn’t miss the chance to fill his remarks with an extra pint of sarcasm either. But all in all that made Harry feel on a cloud. Once he was used to this attitude and he himself got the positive attitude towards the professor, he found the remarks constructive and highly helpful so much that he felt his technique had never been that good before.

As Harry read through his potions book, he remembered the last potions class this week. Snape had gone on to check how they were doing and smiled nastily when he reached Harry. “It’s good to see that after I have provided such thorough instructions for you to read of, you still are trying to manage to turn your pitiful potion blue, Potter.”, he sneered and Harry not jumpy anymore, put the bowl of powdered horn down, instead dropping a pinch of mandrake root in his cauldron and smiled. At this the potions master made a small sound of approval and went on to supervise the others.

It really felt great and he hoped it would at least stay this way for the duration of his second year.

***

“Sir,” Harry ventured after one of the lessons.

Snape’s head snapped up from the parchments of student essays he’d began reading after dismissing the class.

“I was wondering if you could advise me, professor.”

“On what pray tell could you possibly need _my advice_ Mr. Potter?

“Antidotes, sir.” He mumbled almost incoherently.

“Excuse me?”

“Antidotes, sir. I have been researching….well trying to research antidotes for uncommon poisons. I cannot wrap my mind around Golpalott's Third Law and I just hoped… well could you possibly recommend some literature that would be closer to my level? I really want to understand the logic behind it.”

Snape actually snorted to this, much to Harry’s amazement.

“Potter, to be honest with you, I sincerely doubt even Golpalott understood fully the implications of his third law.” He said looking at Harry intently. “But whatever for would you need to know about antidotes?”

“…Nothing, nevermind.” Harry said turning to leave, knowing very well he couldn’t begin to explain to Snape his thirst for information on the subject.

“Start with Alchemy.” Snape said startling him. “Here, these are some helpful volumes, and you will undoubtedly need this –“ he continued handing him two notes. 

Harry’s eyes widened at the recommended readings and moreover, the pass to the restricted section needed to procure them.

“…Are you sure, sir?”

“Take it before I change my mind, Potter.”

Harry snatched the parchments away smiling widely despite his best effort to remain nonchalant and dashed out of the classroom.

***

On Halloween much as he remembered Mrs. Norris was found petrified yet again. The only difference being that now Harry was perfectly capable of recognizing Lockhart’s woefully idiosyncratic behavior. Even so, Harry had expected a marginally different reaction from Snape who had done and said the exact same things for his part. So in his mind still, probably Harry and the other two had done nothing, but they were very suspicious none the less. Were Snape’s aberrations in behavior only saved for there were no witnesses, honestly?

***

Harry didn’t have time to ponder this new or rather old development as the trio started scheming to reveal Draco Malfoy as the heir of Slytherin. Oh joy, he thought as Thursday afternoon potions came to be and he already knew exactly what would happen there. He was supposed to divert the attention of the whole classroom in order for Hermione to sneak in Snape’s office and steal ingredients for the polijuice potion. It was not like he had any choice on the matter. So, much like last time, Harry prodded the Filibuster firework with his wand and threw it into Goyle’s cauldron.

Snape for his part, once again reacted on the spot, dispersing Deflating Drafts like he was awaiting just this sort of accident.

 ** _When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle’s cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush._**

 ** _“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape whispered, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.”_**

Harry smiled crookedly as Snape was looking right at him. Well it was his fault alright, but it could’ve been anybody else and the potions master as per usual jumped to the conclusion that the boy who lived was at fault. That of course infuriated him. Harry resorted to staring at the wall for the next ten minutes and tried to be one of the first to leave the classroom. It didn’t happen however.

“Mr. Potter, stay after class.”, Snape drawled.

Harry sighed and dropped his bag turning around and going to Snape’s desk.

“Sir?”, he ventured after a few minutes of silence.

“Should I use a pensieve to learn exactly what had happened or would you save me the trouble?”, he asked calmly.

Harry looked at him with blank expression.

“I’m sorry sir but I think a pensieve would work better.”, he couldn’t possibly explain to Snape why he’d done it anyway.

“If,”, he replied coldly, “something of this sort happens _ever_ again you’ll be out of my classroom _permanently_.”

That didn’t feel good. Not good at all. Harry could feel emotion well up inside him and he made himself look away from the testing onyx eyes only to feel something wet on his cheek. Oh fuck why? He wasn’t the first person Harry had disappointed but somehow this felt way worse even than testing Dumbledore’s patience. This served to prove something has changed alright. The first time around Snape had simply left the point. So why was he talking to Harry about it now? Was it possible that this time he thought Harry would understand if being confronted? He was wrong if he thought that. Harry had no control and he knew he would disappoint the potions master way more in the future. This didn’t cheer him up in the least. It told him his plan couldn’t possibly work. Even if it worked it would be at the cost of constant disappointment for Snape. Or was it for Harry? He pushed the thoughts down. He would live and this wasn’t the time.

“Yes, sir.”, he managed and hurried to escape Snape’s penetrating gaze.

***

The next time Harry saw Snape was at the dueling club. It wasn’t a happy occasion as Harry was about to perplex Snape even more.

 ** _“I wonder who’ll be teaching us?” said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. “Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young — maybe it’ll be him.”_**

 ** _“As long as it’s not —” Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black._**

Harry registered with a slight delay what the fool was saying because he had just realized something of importance. It was Snape that taught him the disarming charm. The charm that would become his trademark and the same charm that finished Voldemort. If it wasn’t for him, he continued thinking, Harry wouldn’t be alive today. Snape’s saved Harry’s life so many times and what had he ever done for him? Well ok, he went back in time with the sole purpose of saving him, but really was that a conscious choice? And moreover in a practical sense what had he done for the potions master…ever, at all?

As they readied themselves, Snape looking positively ready to tear Lockhart apart, Harry felt once more fixed on the potions professor’s form. He’d never seen him actually duel in a real life situation, yet he had the inkling that he was proficient. Harry definitely wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Snape’s rage.

 ** _“One — two — three —”_**

 ** _Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor._**

Harry stared with renewed appreciation as he couldn’t remember ever seeing someone producing such an effect with this spell. Long feud with the Marauders would hone those skills, he guessed.

Next they were supposed to be paired off and Harry swallowed, still not looking forward to becoming persona non grata for the rest of the year.

 ** _Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first._**

 ** _“Time to split up the dream team, I think,” he sneered. “Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter —”_**

Harry smiled slightly to Snape’s wonder. It wouldn’t do to try and pair with Hermione.

 ** _“Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let’s see what you make of the famous Potter.”_**

Harry readied his wand wondering if he could be allowed a little leeway with fate on this one. After all Snape was here and he wouldn’t change anything of importance.

So after they’d bowed and the count had started, Harry was quick to deter the quick draw of Draco with a well timed “Expeliarmus” of his own. It worked, and Draco’s wand flew into the air only to land at his feet. Nobody seemed to have noticed except for Draco himself and of course, the Potions Master.

After the others had managed to beat their partners, some bloodied, others unscathed, Lockhart had decided that maybe it might be a good idea to show them how to defend themselves. If of course he could omit dropping his wand in the process. So yet again Snape had decided to suggest he be paired with Malfoy. Everything had to be a power move on Snape’s part. Harry would never understand what Snape saw in the boy. After all, it was Draco that was the personification of a young James Potter, spoilt and privileged brat that he was but the Potions Professor didn’t seem to notice.

When Draco summoned the snake Harry knew this was not a thing he could tamper with. The familiar gut feeling told him it was time the world knew he was a parslemouth.

Next thing he knew, Harry shouted stupidly at the snake, “Leave him alone!” And the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry. 

He looked up at Justin, grinning, and of course found him angry and scared. 

**“ _What do you think you’re playing at?” he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall._**

 ** _Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn’t like it._**

What would he think of him now, after this? Not that he was the heir of Slytherin surely. Perhaps the professor would pity him. Or more likely he’d hate him more for some unknowable reason. But he was officially a freak now even by wizarding standards and there was nothing he could do about it.

***

As time passed the need to do something for the potions master increased but nothing sprang to Harry’s mind which needed to be done. Professor Snape was fine on his own it seemed but that didn’t assuage Harry. He’d do something even if it was as small as an anonymous birthday gift. 

Meanwhile, in potions class his personal agenda was monitoring Snape’s possessions without getting him suspicious. A few months of this got him as far as listing five things Snape now lacked. By the holidays however, he already knew a present he simply had to give him even if it was unwelcome.

He passed the whole Christmas break in thoughts of Snape, guessing whether he was at school or at home spending the holidays alone. He much hoped it was the former, though even at Hogwarts the professor would surely prefer being alone on Christmas eve. Harry cursed the fact that Snape hadn’t let him get close enough to send a holiday card at least. It was the same really as Harry couldn’t imagine Snape being happy getting mawkish things like cards. That too made him decide not to congratulate him for his birthday in any way, just leaving the present in an un-present-ly way and leave it be.

So on the eve of ninth of January Harry used his cloak to sneak into Snape’s office and place the quill and its stand on their usual place on Snape’s desk along with a paper bag and a small note attached to it.

***

On the morning of the ninth, when Snape entered his office, he immediately sensed something was off. He couldn’t place it though. So it was half an hour later, when he went on to mark a few essays before breakfast, that he reached absentmindedly for the quill and saw something strange. His first thought was that he was seeing things, being half asleep and all, but a moment was enough to realize that wasn’t the case. There on his desk stood a silver ornamented quill stand along with a quill with the same silver inlay and near them stood a paper bag and a…note. Snape narrowed his eyes and took the note in his hands.

 _I would have put them in your personal storage but I thought it would be a serious breach to your privacy. I hope this compensates at least a bit for the caused inconvenience._

 _I hope the quill is acceptable._

Snape looked back at the quill. The silver stand was engraved so it pictured a thick poll with the letter “S” on its center and an emerald-eyed snake weaving around it until it reached the top where it opened its mouth and swallowed the quill. It was beautiful and very detailed work down to the last silver scale. It made Snape sigh in frustration and open the bag just to busy himself. Bicorn horn and boomslang skin. Great. He was starting to think of placing a ward on his office but realized that would probably only serve to prompt Potter to leave his…“presents” in front of the door.

***

The next few weeks taught Harry a valuable lesson. Snape only dealt with things he knew how to cope with. This defense mechanism was the thing that kept getting in his way to earning the trust of the potions master, he concluded. It was because Snape didn’t know what to make of him that he acted so strange (now he was back on a Notice-me-not as long as Snape was concerned). Harry never got to see him use his gift in class but still hoped he could appreciate its aesthetic value if not the practical one and it wasn’t thrown in the trash.

***

Two months later found Harry in potions class staring unblinkingly at his favorite wall while Malfoy tried his best to suck up to Snape. Of course it would work, he thought. It was actually a little sad how hungry the professor was for a little acknowledgment. Harry found himself reminiscing Snape’s childhood. He was starting to realize that if Snape wasn’t who he was, the whole war would come to pass differently. Harry wouldn’t live in the first place as, if Snape hadn’t had such a terrible childhood, he probably wouldn’t become obsessed with the dark arts, wouldn’t seek the company of Death Eater wannabes, wouldn’t call Lily a mudblood and what was more, he wouldn’t become a Death Eater himself, hence he wouldn’t be able to beg Voldemort to spare his mother’s life – which prompted her sacrifice and saved his life. There was nothing Snape had done which was wrong when he thought about it from this perspective. They were all the right things. But perhaps if he wasn’t a budding Death Eater, Lily would have fell for him. Of course Harry would then disappear from the face of earth but…wouldn’t that be a good thing in the end?

He couldn’t think like this of course. There was nothing he could do and no way to know what would have happened. Perhaps then Snape would have been killed by Voldemort, anything could happen.

As it was, Harry turned to look at Snape’s smug expression and, though it still saddened him a little, he felt glad he had the chance to know this man who had sacrificed so much for him to be able to live and win the war. If only Snape could look him in the eye and recognize how he felt about him…but what good would that do? Hadn’t he ascertained he would continue disappointing this man? It was no good.

***

After this he decided there was nothing more he could do this year, unless something sprang up, which he knew wouldn’t. He went on pretending to be twelve for the most part and trying in vain not to get a headache at the noise everybody made constantly around him in the great hall, corridors and Gryffindor dorm. It was the growing up thing, he was sure of it as he didn’t remember having complaints about the noise the last time he was twelve. There was the strange part where he started understanding why Snape didn’t like teaching kids and especially dunderheads – they seemed to make the most noise for a start and considering potions…well it resulted mostly in loud noises too. He could act his age (as far as being subdued was akin to any age in particular) only in potions and that was one more reason to single it out as his favorite subject. There was one more thing he thought about while staring at various walls through the school year. He could put his efforts in becoming an animagus. Of course it was not at all necessary and he could waste valuable time but what else was he supposed to fill his time with? He was sick with Occlumency and as much as he liked to be in the dungeons he didn’t much fancy becoming a potions master. Snape wouldn’t be able to digest that, he was sure. On the other hand if his father and Sirius were able to become animagi why couldn’t he too? There were bound to be books on the subject. So he spent the rest of his free time in the library reading and copying texts of the seventh year curriculum in Transfiguration. It proved to be a long study subject so he didn’t get his hopes up of ever achieving it but still vowed to spend the next holiday researching.

It was after the fight with the basilisk and on the pajama feast that Snape approached him unexpectedly.

“A word, Mr. Potter.”

Puzzled but not enough to stop him from getting up immediately, Harry followed Snape as he went out of the Great Hall.

“Congratulations for the performance with the basilisk.”, he said cordially and Harry eyed him suspiciously. The last time the potions master congratulated him was just before he accused him of stealing from his private storage and threatened him with Veritaserum.

“I almost died there.”, Harry replied.

“I heard.”

“It was foolish. I shouldn’t have done it.”, Snape stared at him as though he’d just grown a second head. “But thank you, sir. Was that the reason you wished to speak to me?”, but he didn’t answer. “Sir?”

Whatever it was, Snape snapped out of it.

“No, that was not the reason I wished to speak to you. Due to certain circumstances concerning excessive quantities of pure basilisk venom I find myself lacking a second pair of hands –“, he paused as if to gather his thoughts. “And the headmaster suggested, given your avid interest in antidotes, that I borrow you for a certain period of time to brew several potions for me.”

Harry’s eyes lightened as he beamed. He couldn’t believe his luck and with him being only a second year that was quite an honor.

“Certainly, sir!”, he answered enthusiastic. “When should I come?”

Snape snorted in an undignified manner and Harry’s eyes widened. Now that was a first.

“Whenever you have a free period tomorrow on Mr. Potter.”, he said, nodded, bidding good night and with a swish of robes was off to the dungeons.

Harry partially wished he could go right now.

***

As a few days passed however, Harry had to rethink the concept of honor. All he was doing was slaving to a pissed off (for ‘obvious’ reasons) potions master in every free moment he got. Snape was constantly around cursing and threatening under his breath when not remarking Harry’s abysmal work (which according to Harry hadn’t worsened since yesterday). He was playing patient though, trying his hardest to concentrate and to not screw up as the potions he was making were important indeed.

It was just the fact that they had to make so many in such a short time due to the short life-span of the basilisk venom for which Snape didn’t have the appropriate container and could put in stasis for merely a week before it degenerated. Snape’s explanation of this was far more complicated of course but Harry could only gather so much reason from the string of big words that escaped his mouth like an antelope chased by a lion. 

Snape was more tensed and stressed than usual and Harry could only resign himself to this so far. On the third day of their mutual torture in the dungeons, he finally snapped. It happened ten minutes into the work when the potions master suddenly dropped a vile and it crashed on the floor dripping venom. That served to infuriate him enough to start shouting curses as if the vile was at fault for escaping his fingers.

“Sir!”, Harry tried several times to no avail till finally, “SHUT UP!”

Snape stared him like he’d just realized he wasn’t alone in the room. 

“Please, sir, sit down and rest for a few minutes. I’ll manage.”

Seemingly at loss for words, the potions master complied. Harry sympathized with him knowing he was only there for a few hours a day, as Snape spent his whole day doing this. When next he had to go to classes, he scooped the curriculum his professor had made for these potions and tried to study it and found they were actually ahead of their schedule. When he next spoke to the potions master, he pointed out this and managed to persuade him to modify the table so to spread what was left into even numbers to the days ahead. This done, their time together was much more pleasurable for the last four days. With three botched potions and one vile spilled, Harry deemed their work admirable. Snape deemed it lacking…but Snape was Snape and there was nothing that could have been done about it.

***

Overall when traveling back ‘home’ Harry went over the events of the past year and felt generally satisfied with his doing. The next one though…could prove a challenge.


	4. Year 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

Harry spent his summer pretty dully until of course he blew up his aunt. That was quite the work of art in his opinion. As it was, Harry resorted to a nonverbal spell and hoped it wouldn’t make much difference. It turned out it didn’t of course with the minister sucking up to him afterwards and pretty concerned but for his well being and not for some muggle human-balloon. 

On the next day he went to Diagon-Alley under his invisibility cloak as he knew he was in no real danger this year. There he bought all the books he could find of the subjects of animagi and advanced potions. He was getting more and more interested in Felix Felicis. If he had it in the needed quantities the last time… Snape would still die but how many others would be saved?

***

From then on Harry waited and did this in trepidation for he knew exactly how complicated this year was going to be and he still hadn’t found a way to minimize the damage for Snape.

The only thing besides Harry’s studies that had changed over the summer, were the nightmares of Snape. They were no longer nightmares alright – they were pure hell. It started with one of the usual dreams of a young Snape where he watched him being bullied by his father and Sirius. But this time the dream didn’t merge into another. No, Snape was finally dropped to the ground and left on his own. When the boy righted himself, he turned and stared straight at Harry.

“You didn’t stop him.”

“No.”, Harry heard his reply.

“You always watch. You never stop them.”, there was accusation and hurt in the young Snape’s voice and it crushed him to hear it even in his dream.

“I’m sorry.”

“Everybody watches. Everybody laughs.”, he spat on the ground. “I hate you.”

That was the first night for a long time when Harry woke up crying.

The consequent ones were similar to this first with guilt escalating more and more with the next one.

On the final night of his stay in the Leaky Cauldron however, the worst one yet played.

Snape was his grown-up self and they were both in the Shrieking Shack.

“I saved your life.”

“Yes”

“I protected you for seven years.”, Snape’s face was an epitome of disgust. “I tried to teach you everything you needed to survive. To succeed. And what did you do? YOU LEFT ME HERE TO DIE POTTER!”, he shouted outraged.

“No! I’m here to save you! I WON’T LET YOU DIE AGAIN!”, Harry shrieked.

“Won’t you?”, Snape’s tone was sardonic. “Saint Potter, the savior of the wizarding world will come to my rescue, is that it?”

“Damn it, do you want me to save you or not?”

“You can’t save me. It is too late.”

And as Snape said that, Harry’s vision morphed and suddenly he was Nagini. And he was attacking Snape. Sinking his fangs in his neck, tasting Snape’s blood in his mouth.

Then, again, he was Harry, kneeling in front of a dying man.

“I –“, he sobbed, “I didn’t mean it… I –“

“It’s okay,”, Snape muttered, his voice rasping. “It’s alright. Just…look at me, Harry.”

Harry woke up to a loud scream of ‘no’ which turned out to be his own. When he realized he was only dreaming, he started calming down but at the same time uncontrollable sadness swallowed him whole. He had to do something about those dreams.

***

Once on the train Harry felt elated. He breathed in what felt like magic, looking forward to speaking again like a normal human being. If of course Snape felt like it. And didn’t jinx him.

Sitting next to Remus’ sleeping form, he tried to remember he was thirteen and the man was in fact sleeping and not dead. He hadn’t prepared himself for this and hadn’t expected seeing this man to affect him so. He could do nothing for him, he was sure. He couldn’t as much as stir him awake right now, much less change the event of his death. He’d never even witnessed it. Harry’d been told that he’d died fighting, but no one seemed to have even recognized which wand in particular delivered the fatal curse. Yet, here he was, serving an 8 years sentence for another. And it wasn’t only him – he could have been back for Sirius, or Dumbledore, or Fred, or Tonks – there were so many and yet, he seemed to have chosen, be it unconsciously, that they were not to be saved.

Lupin awoke just in time as Harry could hear the dementor approaching.

Harry could remember vividly the last time he got near a dementor and didn’t conjure a patronus. Helplessness was an awful feeling.

**_ An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…  _ **

**_ Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. _ ** ** _He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…_ **

_‘Look at me’…._ “NO!”, Harry wanted to scream, but his voice didn’t oblige. He simply sank in the image of the dying man and let all hope drain him…

**_ “Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”  _ **

**_ Someone was slapping his face.  _ **

**_ “W-what?” _ **

The dementor gone, eating his chocolate, Harry knew he was out of his depth. And Erised knew it before he did.

***

**_ “On a happier note,” Dumbledore continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.  _ **

**_ “First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”  _ **

**_ “Look at Snape!” Ron hissed in Harry’s ear.  _ **

Harry **_was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing_** _._ This year would be tough on Severus Snape.

***

Harry had blissfully forgotten how obnoxious Draco had gotten after receiving his grave injury from Buckbeek. He was exploitative to the extreme, gaining all he could while his arm was in his less than genuine cast and Snape…well Sape seemed to play oblivious. In fact the professor seemed to do that a lot this year where Harry was concerned as well.

**_ “Sir,” Malfoy called, “sir, I’ll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —”  _ **

**_ “Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Snape without looking up.  _ **

“I will do it.” Harry stood and while Snape looked at him suspiciously, he nodded eventually.

Harry went on pretending not to notice the gleeful smirk on the blonde’s face, chopping his stupid daisy roots in perfectly even slices.

**_ “And, sir, I’ll need this shrivelfig skinned,” said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.  _ **

“Hush now you imbecilic…” Harry muttered already skinning the fruit.

While Draco threatened Hagrid, Harry looked on to see Snape had found a new victim in poor Neville. To be fair as far as he remembered the threat to spill the potion on Trevor had worked enough to make Neville produce a good Shrinking Solution.

Harry left Malfoy to his unsliced caterpillars in order to go to Neville’s side.

“Let me see”, Harry said ignoring the professor who seemed to have the boy petrified at this point. “You have added too much spleen to the potion, so this –“, he dropped some of the powder already on the desk. “Should do to stabilize it for the time being. If you pay attention, it should be fine. Now what’s next?”

“FIVE POINTS POTTER!” Snape snarled at him and damn it was hard to ignore.

“Sorry, sir.” He said looking up at the professor as calmly as he could muster.

“Go back to your seat.” He said dangerously low. “And stay after class.”

Harry nodded and retreated to his own potion which was bubbling happily in the cauldron, ready as can be.

**_ “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.” _ **

Meanwhile Malfoy decided that his failed attempt to enrage Harry with Hagrid could be recompensed with goading him about Sirius. The boy really had too much spare time.

Meanwhile Snape continued to be Snape, scarred Neville for life and ended the class on a huff in honor of Trevor not actually dying.

After class was dismissed, Harry stayed behind dutifully awaiting the storm to fall upon him.

“Have you managed to grasp the concept of Golpalott's third law, Potter?” he asked grumpily surprising Harry.

“I – I have read every text you recommended as well as 7 other tomes on alchemy but I don’t think I will be able to make full sense of the theory without proper practice.” He muttered confused, still looking for a catch.

“I thought as much. I suggest you leave other students progress at their own pace.”

“Trauma is not conducive to progress, sir.”

“Detention will be tomorrow at six.”

“Yes, sir.”

****

***

On the next day, after the bogart DADA class Harry was having a trouble with an internal dilemma. On one hand he realized why Snape reacted like this and why he became so vindictive and menacing but on the other, he seemed to vent it all on Nevil. The poor boy had simply admitted he was his worst fear. He didn’t deserve this. Then again, Snape didn’t deserve this on his plate either.

His detention didn’t go any better. Even if the professor had assigned him to make an antidote, something better for Harry to do than any of his classes combined, he seemed unable to look Harry in the eye, even if it was to curse him.

“What.is.it.Potter?”, the potions master ground out as he’d refused to start on his potion.

“I was concerned, sir.” Harry said feigning the nonchalance he wished he could muster.

“About what?”, he asked venomously.

“About – about you.”, he stuttered. This seemed to catch Snape off guard. “Lately you haven’t been yourself. I think you’re on the way of scarring even some of the Slytherins for life.”

“Keep your thoughts for yourself!”, replied Snape outraged. “Now get to your potion before I decide to take more points.”

“Take them all if it will help.”

“Enough of this insolence!”, Snape stood abruptly.”Do as you are told for once.”

“Please, sir, it is clear you are upset –“

“And you thought to get me less upset by pointing it out?” he practically snarled.

A thousand thoughts ran through Harry’s mind. Snape thought Sirius had betrayed his parents. He had relayed the prophecy but if it wasn’t for the secret keeper… He didn’t want to blame himself and had someone he hated to turn to instead. Remus was at the school – the werewolf who almost killed him. Remus who might be helping Sirius. Remus who’d made a joke out of him earlier today. He’d sworn to protect Harry. Harry who was spitting image of James Potter. Merlin, but this was tricky. What on Earth could Harry possibly say?

“Just do your potion, Potter”, he spat his name like a regular insult and it stung. Way to go to bite someone for simply existing.

Harry turned to chopping flobberwarms and lemon grass.

“He was their secret keeper.” He ventured out of the blue, his knife steady.

“Let the grownups deal with it.” Snape answered vaguely after a while, shuffling through the papers on his desk, barely even looking at him.

“I don’t hold any grudges, you see. What’s done is done. No justice can bring them back.”, he said calmly looking up at his professor, seeing him flinch slightly never letting the parchment he was reading slip from his hands.

“Thank you for your input. Are you quite done?”

“Actually no, I was thinking, this is a basic antidote and while it makes sense, it doesn’t touch on the alchemical properties of the ingredients.” Snape looked up from his parchment, which Harry took as a good sign. “ You see, I understand that for a fire-based poison, a water-based one would be ideal, but do I dissect ingredients just according to elements, would that do? Do you think perhaps arithmancy would make it more precise?”

The potions professor hummed, put down his parchment and picked a new one.

“Should I get myself familiarized with numerological properties of ingredients in my stipulations as well? Perhaps I should study the subject in order to understand calculations –“

“Here, Potter, when you’re done with this, perhaps you’d benefit from the study of a few more tomes.”

“Thank you, sir”, he said deliberately keeping himself from going over to the offered note.

“If you have any questions, professor Sinistra would surely be happy to assist you.”

“I see.” He decided on after a deliberation, stirring his now almost complete potion.

“She is the subject-matter expert in Arithmancy.”, Snape further explained.

“Yes, of course.”

***

Lesson relearned. Snape still wasn’t sure what to make of Harry, that was for sure. But now Harry too wasn’t too sure what to do with himself.

As weeks passed he resigned himself to studying from his new books, searching for something helpful on the pages. Whenever he saw Snape, the latter made no point of even noticing him and Harry was now wondering how he was supposed to get graded at all if his work wasn’t monitored. He didn’t dare make another move though. If it could get any worse than this Harry didn’t wanna know.

The next time he actually dared breached the course of history was in a DADA class.

**_ Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.  _ **

**_ “Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin. I —”  _ **

But it was Snape who stood there as it was this time of the month.

“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.” 

It went exactly as Harry remembered it. Snape was still out to get Lupin nevertheless what Harry said or did. Some things he had to leave alone, he understood but Merlin was this man wrong in his aspirations. Harry couldn’t help but imagine how he himself would have reacted to a Draco Malfoy as his colleague professor. He hoped he’d be… well at least not he same.

**_ “Silence!” snarled Snape. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…”  _ **

“The werewolf,”, Harry recited with a bored voice staring past Snape. “differs from the true wolf in several small anatomy details. Them being the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, the tufted tail –“

Snape stared at him with pure loathing. Harry stared back. If he was going to be like this, at least he too would get to vent the pent up emotion.

“Ten points – from Gryffindor for insolent behavior and lack of discipline.”, Snape snarled.

Everyone glared at him for this and the story tried to repeat itself with Ron defending… well him. except Harry didn’t let him.

“You asked us a question and I knew the answer.” He said calmly and saw with his peripheral vision Ron staring at him. “Why ask if you don’t want to be told?” 

The class knew instantly he’d gone too far. Snape advanced on him slowly, and the room held its breath. 

“Detention, Potter,” Snape said silkily, his face very close to Harry’s. “And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed.” 

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin. 

***

When Harry arrived for his detention that evening, he had already realized he had inadvertently crossed all existing lines, in fact had made new ones beyond them and crossed those too. Criticizing Snape’s teaching equaled Harry petting Lupin during the full moon and saying ‘nice doggy’

“Enter.”

Harry locked his gaze on Snape as soon as he saw him and went closer to sit in the chair.

“My essay.”, he said and pushed forward a rolled parchment glaring at nothing in particular.

“Why, Potter, this will not excuse you from your detention.”

“Of course not.”

Snape seemed to scrutinize him for a moment or two before getting up. 

“Follow me.”

As Harry also stood a quill on Snape’s desk caught his eye. So he was using it. It should calm him down, he knew that but still with the way he had sunk so low today… he couldn’t be excused so easily.

“Tell me something, sir,”, Harry said as Snape went to open the adjacent door. “why do you hate him so much?”

The potions master spun around so he crashed with him.

“What!”, he practically spat in Harry’s face.

“I’m asking why you were out to get him today. Or you mean to tell me you didn’t guess someone was bound to realize that his absence coincides with the full moon.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and glared at him.

“So he told you, didn’t he?”

Harry snorted.

“Of course not. I’m not _that_ much of a dunderhead as you give me credit for, professor.”

“Stop interfering in other people’s business, Potter. You’re bound to pay for it.”

“I’m counting on it, sir.”, he gestured to the door Snape was currently blocking. “May I?”

***

It seemed impossible to change Snape’s mind of Lupin. He tried to tell himself the potions master was so harsh on him because he believed Remus was helping Sirius and thus he was actually protecting Harry but he couldn’t deny that even if it hadn’t been for the escaped prisoner, Snape wouldn’t have been any nicer towards the DADA professor. However, he was not one to judge. Harry was sure if it had been for Draco Malfoy, even after years had passed, he would be non too happy to provide potions for the slimy ferret and leave him teach kids the Dark Arts unattended.

Nevertheless, he had other things on his mind. With Christmas approaching and his determination to do something for the stubborn man, he had little time and options to spend it. He couldn’t leave Hogwarts and risk being seen, but having had a plan a year ahead helped a lot. That’s why the first Hogsmeade weekend he asked Hermione for a favor, namely to go to a certain store and get him a catalogue. It was pure chance he knew of the store’s existence as he’d never actually entered it, and quite a miracle they did indeed have a catalogue. The next step was writing to Gringots and once his money was delivered, it was a piece of cake getting what he wanted even though he hadn’t moved an inch out of the confines of the school. There was the other matter of actually delivering the gift in a way Snape was sure to accept itand not throw it in Harry’s face. That was a bit more difficult to process a plan for, but not impossible as it proved.

They haven’t talkedsince his detention and he didn’t really want to right now. It would be better for the potions master if Harry backed off for a few months, at least till the Black business came to pass. He could picture Snape’s reaction pretty clearly as he’d seen it once before and he wasn’t looking forward to it. How he was to repair that particular damage once done, he didn’t want to think of.

But he couldn’t help make it personal. Of course it would be good enough to do a good deed or two for the professor so he believed him when the time of critical importance came, could proclaim his trust to the man and only repair the damage once done, but it wasn’t good enough. Harry wanted to do something for him, the plan aside. He didn’t care if Snape ever knew it was him that did it. It was enough that he would know. He had a vague idea or two for when it would be appropriate to act but meanwhile too, he was determined to do some small things.

***

**_ At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.  _ **

**_ “Merry Christmas!” said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. “As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables…Sit down, sit down!”  _ **

**_ Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.  _ **

**_ “Crackers!” said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. _ ** ****

Harry straightened and extended his ready-for-the-job wand under the table as with a bang the cracker flew apart emitting blue smoke. When the smoke subsided on the table lay a silver ring with rectangular onyx stone. Snape frowned looking at it as though it would rear a head and bite him any moment now. Dumbledore on the other hand looked at it with twinkling eyes.

“Splendid! Simply splendid. May I, Severus?”, Snape, still frowning, nodded stiffly and the headmaster took the ring to look at it closely. “Marvelous”, he said smiling a bit bitterly. “And the best thing I ever got from a cracker was  grow-your-own-warts kit.”

“Take it if you want it.”, Severus muttered annoyed at the attention it seemed.

“Oh I couldn’t do that. It was your cracker after all.”, he smiled knowingly and set the ring back on the table in front of the potions master.

It didn’t go as well as planned as Snape didn’t actually touch the ring through dinner with Trelawney arriving and his mood disturbed by the mentioning of Lupin, but Harry felt certain the charm he had put on it would hold long enough so that when Snape did touch the ring, he would feel it.

** *** **

****

As time passed the next Hogsmeade weekend came and everything went the same way up until he was in Snape’s office.

**_ “Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?”  _ **

****

Harry’s eyebrows lifted an inch.

****

“I can imagine quite a number of things Malfoy could’ve seen, sir.”

****

** “ _It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair.”_ **

****

There was a long silence which Harry knew better to interrupt.

****

** _“What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?” said Snape softly. “Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade.”_ **

****

The boy got the feeling he was there for decorum to his professor’s monologue.

****

“I know that.”, he said calmly.

****

“You do, don’t you –“

****

“You don’t honestly believe I’ll say I’ve been to Hogsmeade, do you, sir?”, Harry asked rolling his eyes exasperatedly. “You cannot prove that I was anywhere in particular and you know it.”

****

Snape glared at him forthe longest time yet and finally straightened up again.

****

**_ “So, everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences.”  _ **

****

“Of course.”, Harry supplied. “Famous Harry Potter is above the rules, didn’t you know that?”, he let his voice drip with sarcasm and didn’t waver under the glare he got. “Famous Harry Potter disregards the authority of others, and lives to disappoint his protectors for he cares for none but himself and nothing but indulging his whims.” He concluded and sighed. “But that last bit is a lie, I admit. Pathetic Harry Potter actually cares be it for one person. And that one person is luckily the same he gets to disappoint on every step he takes. You must have an idea what that feels like, sir.”

****

The silence didn’t last long as the potions master finally seemed tired of glaring and went for another tactic.

****

**_ “How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,” Snape said, his eyes glinting. “He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers…The resemblance between you is uncanny.”  _ **

****

Harry sighed to this. Though he knew it would come, it still hurt to hear it from him.

****

**_ “Your father didn’t set much store by rules either,” Snape went on, pressing what he thought was his advantage, his thin face full of malice. “Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen —” _ **

****

“Tell me something I don’t’ know, sir. So my father was a git. What a surprise! And of course I, his dwarf-clone, would follow in his steps… That’s a wonderful image you’ve got there, sir.”, his eyes watered but he didn’t bother to stop and collect himself. “It must feel really good to be able to say it in my face with all your malice put in copious amounts in every syllable.”, his voice broke but that didn’t stop him. “Let me make it even more enjoyable for you.”, Harry finished and took the Marauders’ map out of his pocket and on the desk.

****

He used the little time Snape needed to disregard his little emotional explosion and study the parchment to compose himself. Therefore he didn’t see the professor stare at him before striding to his fireplace to call Lupin. Harry wasn’t really there. He was in his fifth year in one of the Occlumency lessons where Snape yelled at him. When he snapped out of it, he realized he’d missed half of the conversation.

****

**_ “Harry, do you know any of these men?” , Remus had asked him. _ **

****

**_ “No,” said Harry quickly.  _ **

****

**_ “You see, Severus?” said Lupin, turning back to Snape. “It looks like a Zonko product to me —”  _ **

****

**_ Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape’s desk, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying to speak.  _ **

****

**_ “I — gave — Harry — that — stuff,” he choked. “Bought — it…in Zonko’s…ages — ago…” “Well!” said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. “That seems to clear that up! Severus, I’ll take this back, shall I?” He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. “Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Severus—”  _ **

****

**_ Harry didn’t dare look at Snape as they left his office. _ ** **_ _ **

****

***

****

He wasn’t surprised as his nightmares intensified over the next few weeks, nor that it became once again quite harder to look at the potions master or even be in his presence. To add to this it was disturbing how frequently his thoughts ghosted over the picture the mirror of Erised painted for him in his first year. Despite how hard it was and how thin the chance he had was, he knew he couldn’t give up and do nothing. He would save the git’s life even if he hated him for it.

****

The months went by and every next one brought an ounce of trepidation for the end of term.

****

It turned out as Harry feared. He was compelled to repeat almost everything as it had been for the moment was critical and with the prophecy in the bargain he couldn’t risk it anyway.

****

So he went to the Shrieking Shack after Sirius and Ron along with Hermione and the three listened to the unlikely story of a long time ago up until Snape entered the scene. Then again the history repeated itself as the potions master proved he hadn’t changed at all with his attitude and utter madness.

****

**_ “Come on, all of you,” he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —”  _ **

****

Harry cursed in his mind but did as he was supposed to and blocked Snape’s path.

****

**_ “Get out of the way, Potter, you’re in enough trouble already,” snarled Snape. “If I hadn’t been here to save your skin —”  _ **

****

Potter looked straight in his eyes with sullen expression.

****

“Thank you, sir, for trying to protect me but I can’t let you do this. This has nothing to do with you, sir. Please step back.

****

“Get.out.of.the.way!”, Snape hissed.

****

“I’m sorry, no. You’re about to send an innocent man to a certain death, maybe two. Whether Sirius Black is guilty or not, I deserve explanation for what he did and I’ll get it with or without your permission.”

****

** _“Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!”_ **

****

Harry closed his eyes as he heard the movement behind Snape

****

**_ “Expelliarmus!”  _ **

****

**_ There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.  _ **

****

**_ Harry looked around. Both Ron and Hermione had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment. Snape’s wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks. _ ** **_ _ **

****

***

****

The next time Harry saw Snape was after all the havoc with the time-turner. And as the first time the potions master was out of his mind with anger shouting and accusing him of freeing Sirius. All Harry could do was listen and realize how deep his hatred ran now. Harry couldn’t really pinpoint what had upset Snape more, the loss of Black, or of the Order of Merlin. Perhaps both as he was quite out of hand. He wondered if this new level of loathing would ever dissipate.

****

***

****

The last week of the term served to nearly break Harry’s heart as he became witness of what Snape’s behavior towards him would be from now on. He was certain that for the potions master he was now nothing more than a reincarnated James Potter.

****

****


	5. Year 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

Harry had two months to mull over what would happen next. His research on antidotes was at a dead end as he was currently unable to test his suppositions in practice. He couldn’t begin to fathom if one should treat a Maledictus poison any different from its animal form and he had yet another year and a half to endure until he could even start asking those questions without appearing suspicious. His studies on advanced transfiguration seemed to be the only ones going well enough. He’d mastered several major metamorph alterations and he had good progress on meditation and visualization of his inner animal. He was yet to find its corporeal form but he was sure it would be a flying animal at this point.

Even so, this progress didn’t serve to elate him in the least. Instead he spent his days very much dreading the upcoming year. He remembered vividly what it felt like to have Voldemort alive and in his head. And he felt sure that while Occlumency could prevent the curiosity of his benign teachers, these sorts of barriers would hardly hold the Dark Lord and the link they shared.

He had to remind himself constantly that everything would be alright as long as he didn’t change anything, but couldn’t quite manage persuading his mind’s voice which continued its muttering that Voldemort would surely know once he saw him exactly what he was, where he came from and every last bit of his memories from the coming years.

Moreover his dreams now included an innocent dead boy which was a great addition to what was becoming the norm of his usual nights. He would not be able to do anything to save Cedric, he was certain knowing how the rules worked by this point. He would have to stand there once again watching or it would indeed leave him behind anyway. It was cruel to think that he had the chance to do something but only for one of them. It seemed awful that he’d made his choice, even before he knew he’d done such a thing, to effectually doom all the others to their fates.

With ample time to make his plans for the upcoming events, Harry went through the motions of the Quidditch world cup, the Dark Mark and his stay at the burrow, but only relaxed when he found himself back in Hogwarts. 

With everything going on in his head, he felt more compelled than ever to do everything in his power to make amends with Severus Snape at whatever cost. 

***

In his first potions class Harry botched the potion he was making on purpose and continued reading until Snape came to congratulate him snidely.

“It would seem some of us have their skulls so thick nothing can penetrate them.”

Harry looked straight at the glaring eyes, his expression blank.

***

In his second potions class, he claimed he didn’t have his homework. That got him detention with the potions master and elicited merely another blank stare from him.

***

In detention Harry had to scrub filthy cauldrons for the first time in almost ten years. It felt nostalgic. As Snape didn’t utter a single word to him throughout the ordeal, all he could do was steal a glance or two of the man reading on his desk.

As he readied himself to go, he turned to the potions master.

“I’m sorry”

Snape narrowed his eyes and looked at him.

“If you’ve finished, leave.”

“I’ve not finished speaking, sir.”

“Get out, Potter.”

“Not until I’ve said what I wanted to.”

Snape glared.

“Fine. Be done with it and go. I don’t have time for – “

“I know you don’t. And I know ‘sorry’ isn’t enough. If it was, I wouldn’t be here. But I am. And I am sorry. I wish I could do something more than say that, but there is no use since I’m perfectly aware what a joy it is to be able to hate me with a clear conscience.”, he finished stupidly.

“Leave, Potter”, Snape prompted after a brief pause.

Harry went to do so but halted at the door.

“I dreamt of a woman trapped in the body of a snake.” He said softly hating how much he sounded like young Riddle right there. “Is that even possible, sir?”, Harry turned around to see if Snape had any reactions to show. He knew the Potions Master had to be well-acquainted with Nagini. He also knew that his mark had to have become clearer during the summer.

The professor had stopped moving his quill over the parchment and had instead turned to look at him.

“Have you dreamt of snakes before, Potter?”

“Quite often.” He admitted calmly. “I’m a parslemouth, you see.”

“It is very rare but it is possible.”

Harry nodded and bid him good day leaving Snape to his thoughts.

***

The next couple of weeks Harry proceeded to perform miserably. On the forth week in which Harry claimed he didn’t do his homework again, all that was left to do in terms of menial labor was rearranging the ingredients in the students’ storage. As he came down to the dungeons, Snape approached him for the first time since the first night.

“Are you stupid, Potter, or are you merely masochistically inclined?”, he asked silkily.

“The latter I should think, sir.”, Harry replied quietly looking up at the professor. Was it not true? He still couldn’t quite believe he’d gotten himself detentions on purpose.

“Your next detention will be served with Filch, for I fear I can’t spend anymore precious time to indulge your whims.”, Snape went back to sit in his chair. “And Potter, one more zero from you and you’re out of my class for good.”

Harry didn’t react to this. Instead he went to the shelves.

He knew his little attention seeking game was up and Snape would tolerate none of it. The last thing he’d wanted was to enrage him further but at this point he had to face that this seemed all he was able to do with the Potions Master.

Once he was done, he went back to Snape’s desk and cleared his throat to prompt the professor to look up from his reading.

“I’m done.”

“Off with you then.”, Snape spat.

“One more thing.”, Harry said calmly and extracted a stack of paper from his bag.

The Potions Master took the papers noticing immediately the contents as well as the magically stamped date and hour to each homework attesting that he’d done his work on time, just hadn’t handed it in.

“Exactly what game are you playing, Potter?”

“One I’m not very good at, sir.”, he replied solemnly. “Good night.”

***

Next month was a bit calmer as Harry went back to his pattern of doing alright in class and staring at innocent objects, mainly walls. Snape was his usual sour self and didn’t miss an opportunity to indulge in tormenting the Gryffindors at large and Harry in particular when he got the chance. But Harry didn’t give him an excuse to say much except for a few words muttered to Ron in class.

The peaceful time passed too quickly however and the official end of it came with the Triwizard cup naming him champion. Snape of course was livid and as quick to accuse him as ever, but Harry knew this was merely the beginning of a torture session..

***

Soon Harry found himself the butt of the Slytherin jokes with the badges to boot.

After fake-Moody had turned Malfoy into a ferret he seemed to become even more obnoxious than usual.

** _“Want one, Granger?” said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. “I’ve got loads. But don’t touch my hand, now. I’ve just washed it, you see; don’t want a Mudblood sliming it up.”_ **

“Shut your filthy mouth, Malfoy!”, Harry yelled at him, his anger welling up. “What kind of a pathetic freak of nature are you? You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as she.”, he went on while reaching for his wand.

Once again Harry had shot a hex at Malfoy just as he’d uttered his own and once again both curses ricocheted to hit Goyle and Hermione instead.

**_ “And what is all this noise about?” said a soft, deadly voice.  _ **

**_ Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, “Explain.”  _ **

**_ “Potter attacked me, sir -” _ ** ****

Harry narrowed his eyes at him but said nothing as Snape assessed and sent Goyle to the hospital wing. Then when prompted, he looked once over at Hermione and pronounced coldly ** _“I see no difference.”_**

**_ Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.  _ **

Harry grabbed Ron as he was about to start shouting at Snape and took over hissing lowly instead, “You see no difference? But of course. Why would you ever so much as look at a Mudblood know-it-all to be able to _tell_ a difference if there is one?”

Snape looked outraged.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention for you – _Potter_. Now get inside!” his voice low and venomous.

Harry took a deep breath passing the potions master and realizing exactly what he’d said in his anger.

That must have hurt. It hurt _him_ at least, enough that he stared at Snape instead of the wall for a change. He couldn’t discern anything from the man ahead however, but that didn’t stop him looking.

Once in class he didn’t relish being called out by Colin Creevy for the Triwizard tournament photos, especially not given the further darkening of the professor’s already foul mood.

***

“Fame-stricken, Poter?”, Snape intoned just when his potion hissed dangerously ignored by Harry. “Imagine yourself the winner of the Triwizard cup already? Oh, the swooning faces.” He deadpanned.

Harry stirred his potion trying and failing to concentrate.

“For the moment I’m more concerned with staying alive, professor.” He muttered not looking up.

“Famous Harry Potter is scared?” he sneered.

“I’m _concerned_. Aren’t you? Or do you think it’s a normal thing to be happening?”

“Nothing is normal where you are concerned.” Snape said icily and Harry huffed out a laugh.

“Of course.” He said and when he tried to stir once again he found his potion cold.

“Gather your things, Potter. I don’t tolerate looming explosions this late in the day.”

***

It was a week before the first task that Harry decided he’s had enough of children. As he was twenty two now, he couldn’t begin to explain to the people around him how childishly they were acting and how much that pissed him off. He was having enough problems as it was without adding a headache into the bargain. That sort of reaction created a new habit of wandering around the dungeons as much as he could. Though he had asked himself on a few occasions in what exactly was he turning, he had to admit that darkness and silence were preferable to Gryffindor common room any time. Plus, he got to check on Snape several times a day walking briefly past him. The professor seemed above mentioning the strange change in Potter’s pattern as he now passed by him so frequently. It must have bothered him, Harry thought but at least he wasn’t attempting engaging the man in conversation of any sort. No, Potter was simply there to relax and in the meantime watch for any indication that the mark indeed bothered Snape. He witnessed no such occasions of course and frankly wasn’t surprised. The Potions Master had been a good spy the first time. Thinking in that line made Harry realize exactly how concerned he was about Snape and the looming end of the year. He knew that if he unwittingly revealed something, the professor would be in even more danger and he would therefore lose any chance of preventing his death.

***

With the first task over, Harry was supposed to be friends with Ron again. Not that he’d really stopped but still it seemed important to fate that they now spent time together especially at the Yule ball. This was one thing he didn’t appreciate as he could be doing much more relevant things instead. Like check on Snape – and learn nothing of value as usual. What was with him these days anyway? The more nasty the potions master turned to him in class, the more Harry seemed to seek his presence. It was only natural he’d want seek a chance to better his opinion of him but entirely not okay to continue this futile staring from a distance. It was good he wouldn’t have the chance to do that tonight, he chastised himself.

At one point Ron dragged him out of the hall and into the garden. Then as he heard the two men, Harry remembered what was supposed to happen.

**_ “…don’t see what there is to fuss about, Igor.”  _ **

**_ “Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it _”  _ **

**_ “Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”  _ **

Harry closed his eyes at those words not sure what to think or if thinking about it was the best course of action at all. Of course, Snape wouldn’t flee. He’d never been a coward.

They proceeded to watch as the two men walked closer, Snape dispersing the ‘love in the air’ in the form of young student love.

So it had happened already? Good. This would give him something to latch on.

***

“Enter.”, the cold voice said and so he did, hurrying to close the door behind him, lest Snape changed his mind and threw something at him. “ _Potter_ ,”, he sounded resigned.

Harry crossed the room to his desk.

“He’s coming back, isn’t he?”, he asked softly. “Soon.”

Snape took a long time to respond while his eyes traveled through Harry’s face.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Harry took a deep breath. Denial was not a hex – yet.

“The Dark Lord.” He clarified calmly.

The potions master narrowed his eyes.

“You’re deluded, Potter.”

No ‘get out’? Harry’s eyebrows lifted.

“I’m not deluded. He’s coming back and you know it.”

“And just how am I supposed to know this?”, Snape sneered condescending.

“Your arm’s been bothering you lately, has it not?”

The Potions Master rose at once, his expression suddenly angry.

“Just what are you accusing –“, he stopped mid-sentence as Potter slumped in the chair across his desk.

“I’m not accusing. I’m concerned.”

Snape winced with displeasure before retorting.

“I suggest you go be concerned somewhere else.”

Ah how creative.

“And if I didn’t have anywhere else to go?”

“Whoever gave you the idea _this_ was an option?”

Harry warred with himself, the rational part of his brain telling him that this was enough and he had to leave now. However he felt pathetic enough as it was without the need for the Potions Master to be this snide with him.

“You think you’re really special, don’t you? Oh you’re fine by yourself, you trust no one but yourself. Everybody else is below you, are they not? With your intelligence and magic power you think you can step on anyone. But you know what I can’t figure out? If you really hate people like my father why are you insisting on being just like them?”, he hissed in one breath and panted, standing up.

“Fifty –“

“You can take all the points and it won’t change anything, sir.”, Harry pushed, his hands landing with a thud on Snape’s desk. The older man looked one step from taking out his wand. “You are every bit as arrogant as you accuse my father of being. As you accuse _me_ of being.”

“SHUT UP!”, the potions master yelled.

“NO!”, Harry’s voice leveled his, mocking. “Voldemort is coming back and you don’t think I of all people deserve to know.” Snape sat back in his chair, deciding, it seemed, to ignore his presence since he couldn’t explain hexing a student very well. That didn’t stop Harry though. “Oh, you don’t want to go through the trouble of talking to Potter – the nuisance! It’s not like he’s after him. No, his being a Triwizard champion is not at all strange or suspicious. He can go to hell and go there not knowing of the danger ahead and why should he? He’s only a stupid boy. Let the grown-ups deal with the facts and let a fuckin’ fourteen year old be the bait. I come here with a simple question and you again deny me of, oh, your precious time!”

Snape finally looked up, his eyes-slits now.

“Let me ask _you_ a question – Potter,”, he snarled. “Why are you coming here of all places when you could have just as easily gone to the headmaster? And not just now. Why have you been pestering me for a good half year before that? What do you want from me, Potter? Desperate because there is someone who doesn’t melt at the mere mentioning of the boy who lived?”

“You know me so well.”, Harry sneered and turned to leave.

“Not so brave anymore are you?”, Snape jeered behind him.

Harry turned to stare coldly at him, “You’re the brave one, professor. I’m just a child.”

***

In the next few days Harry still couldn’t decide which he regretted more – that he said what he had said to Snape or that he didn’t say the rest he was thinking. He was on the verge of giving up. Snape didn’t want to have anything to do with him after all his effort of the previous years. So why couldn’t he do as he wished? Abandon him to his own devices? Why couldn’t he hate him like he used to? Like it was only natural to, given the loathing of the Potions Master towards him. After all, he should have felt some portion of anger every time he passed the hour glass as his little endeavor had cost his house a hundred points.But he didn’t feel angry. He felt stupid and utterly alone with no idea what to do with himself. The only person he could’ve had a real conversation with was Snape. With every other human being he was bound to only repeat that which had been said long time ago already. As much as he was determined not to break his promise to leave Snape alone, he already regretted making it.

***

Harry endured fake-Moody’s nocturnal interaction with Snape less than admirably – trying to change pivotal conversations it turned, even where Snape was concerned, proved impossible to the extent of propelling him forward literally into next morning. 

***

In next Potions class, the professor turned his attention to a magazine brandishing the ill-timed picture of him and Hermione and Rita Skeeter’s fanciful writing.

**_ Snapes _ ** **_ black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter’s article. “Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings…”  _ **

**_ The dungeon rang with the Slytherins’ laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape’s thin _ ** _ **mouth**. _ But of course, Severus, please go on. Read the fucking article aloud for everybody’s enjoyment. Harry closed his eyes after one glance at Snape. He wasn’t allowed to want to hurt him, was he? Even a tiny bit?

** _“How very touching,”_ ** Snape sneered after reading a paragraph to the enjoyment of the Slytherins in the room.

After amusing himself properly, he ordered the three of them to their new seats, Harry again at the front so he could come for more bouts of vindictive pleasure when the first round didn’t serve to satisfy him anymore.

**_ “All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head Potter,” said Snape _ ** _ **quietly. “You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you, but I don’t care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him.”** _

To this Harry smiled and looked away his vision getting a bit too blurry to his taste. A nasty little boy indeed.

**_ “So I give you fair warning, Potter,” Snape continued in a sorter and more dangerous voice, “pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -”  _ **

“I keep my promises, sir.”, he interrupted equally as quietly. “But you wouldn’t remember any word I’ve uttered, would you? Do I have to spell it? I didn’t break into your office.", he murmured back equally as quiet.

** _“Don’t lie to me,” Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry’s. “Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them.” _ **

Harry huffed out a laugh.

“Supposedly I did. I can see what I’d use the Gillyweed for. Boomslang skin, however? Are you suggesting that the ‘pint-sized celebrity’ wants to shun the spotlight? Pick one, sir, and try sticking to it.”

As Snape didn’t say anything, Harry turned to his ginger roots, picked up his knife, and started slicing them. 

When Karkafoff insinuated himself in the class hovering behind Snape’s desk, Harry feigned ignorance even when Snape’s eyes found him more often than usual to check his reaction. The man was deficient, blatant and too obvious, Harry couldn’t imagine him being much more than a blunt weapon in the hands of Voldemort before his fall.

After class, not at all inclined to leave, _Harry **deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile,**_ and bent under pretending to clear it up.

**_ “What’s so urgent?” he heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff.  _ **

**_ “This,” said Karkaroff, and Harry, standing up and crossing his arms, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.  _ **

**_ “Well?” said Karkaroff, still making every effort not to move his lips. “Do you see? It’s never been this clear, never since -”  _ **

**_ “Put it away!” snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.  _ **

**_ “But you must have noticed -” Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.  _ **

**_ “We can talk later, Karkaroff!” spat Snape. “Potter! What are you doing?”  _ **

“Something suspicious, surely, professor.”, he smirked unashamedly.

**_ Karkaroff _ ** **_ turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag. _ **

“Not so fast, Potter.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow turning around, taking a measuring glance of Snape and smiled sweetly.

“He’s a dead man.”, he chose to comment. At the look the potions master gave him, he decided to clarify. “Karkaroff. And he knows it.”

“I see you’re not concerned anymore.”

“It’s counterproductive.”, his voice full of ice, he stared right into Snape’s eyes. “Besides there’s no one I care for so what use of being concerned?”

“Why did you break into my office?”

“What do you want to hear?”, Harry glared. Why did he bother to ask questions if he disregarded all answers?

“Don’t give me such disrespectful tone, Potter, I’m not one of your – “

“I’m not being disrespectful, sir. I’m being bitter. You of all people should be able to distinguish between the two.”

“You don’t have a reason to be bitter, Potter.”, Snape drawled, obviously against his better judgment as he frowned immediately after it.

“You mean I don’t have the right to feel that way. That I should just take whatever card’s dealt to me and learn to live with it.”, Snape stared transfixed. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Good day to you, sir.”

***

‘And here I thought things couldn’t get any worse’, the little voice kept telling him a week later after a disastrous potions class after Snape had assigned him a new partner. Neville Longbottom was a good kid really, but not your dream brewer buddy, certainly. The accident had been prone to happen so Harry didn’t actually see what he was so surprised about but for Snape to sink so low as to let Neville’s toad die right there was a bit overboard even for him. To top it all, they both had been assigned detentions for the following Friday.

***

Harry had been helping a first year brew a simple enough potion in his detention so far, so when the minute student was gone, he glanced around wondering what his detention really would entail.

“Potter, come here.”, he obliged without hurry. “Sit.”

“What is it, sir?”

“I am incapable of understanding how you could possibly allow Mr. Longbottom enough freedom to reign in his miserable –“

“You realize with such long sentences one cannot cope remembering both the beginning and the end, sir.”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

“You murdered Trevor.”

“Who?”, asked Snape incredulously and then it clicked. “The toad you mean? Really, Potter is that what’s got you concerned? The toad? You realize, don’t you, it could have been Mr. Longbottom or even yourself at its place.”

“I realize, sir, and I fear to think what you’d have done in such a case. Kicked us to see if we still moved?”

“Hold your tongue! I will not accept such manner of talking in my classroom of all places. You’ve gone far beyond acceptable, Potter. But I’ll indulge you by pointing out how severely your knowledge is depraved. – “

“It’s not depraved. You killed it.”

“Suppose you’re right,”, Snape sneered. “I killed it. And what are you imagining would have happened had I not? The toad would simply hop out of a cauldron full of poison and go catch a fly?”, Harry narrowed his eyes. “I spared the stupid toad vast amounts of pain while its infinitesimal brain processed the information it was slowly decaying.”

“There’s an antidote!”, he protested.

“Very clever, Potter. Antidote for a toad, ingenuous!”, Harry had the impression Snape would at any moment guess he was making him talk of a ridiculous subject. Tick! “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”, the potions master hissed.

“I was merely alluding.”, Harry confessed. 

“Alluding to what exactly, Potter?”

“Your hand was steady, the movement was careless. It was hard to watch. But not for you.”

Snape’s eyes widened in realization of Harry’s actual question.

“Yes.”, he ground out somewhat resigned.

“I gathered as much.”, he sighed standing up. “Listen, professor, I’m sorry for what happened and I’ll try my best to bear in mind not to turn my back on Neville around a cauldron in future. But you must have realized I couldn’t have known for the life of it that he’d decide to deposit a cauldron full of poison on the floor the second I wasn’t watching.”

“What else were you expecting from Longbottom?”

“I don’t know. To deposit himself inside, to chop off the head of Trevor which by the way was a close call even when I was paying attention to his actions, or to otherwise incapacitate himself without endangering everyone else.”, Harry noticed the corners of Snape’s mouth had lifted an inch as if he was trying hard not to smile at the image. “But what is most important is that I still fail to understand what you were expecting of _me_ assigning him as my partner.”

“I expected better.”, Snape conceded.

“Ah,”, Harry smiled. “I live to disappoint.”, and bowed comically. “Good night, sir.”

***

Their last conversation kept Harry busy for a long time so, even as it was progressively turning to be the last real one for the year, he didn’t try changing the fact as he wasn’t certain he knew the right things to say anymore. While he was glad that the professor still harbored some expectations for him, he felt even further away from his goal than he had been in the beginning of the year. 

Have you killed before, he had asked him and Snape had confirmed what Harry had only suspected so far. He had guessed, even as he heard his painless shit of excuse but was it important? Harry had never killed, so he wouldn’t know what that entailed. Sure, there were times when he was close but he knew that to be different from Snape’s variation. The man had been a Death Eater, had been obsessed with the Dark Arts his whole life. Was he tainted by them and if yes, just how much? The question wasn’t so much as to was he worthy of saving or did he hate him knowing this. He was sure his father too had killed at least once, fighting Voldemort one-on-one two times and surviving, he had to have had some sort of experience in combat, surely. No, the question was, were there anything Harry could offer him by saving his life. What would be left of him if he survived? It wasn’t a pleasant thought but he had put it off long enough already. Snape must survive, he still felt it only right for this man who had helped him despite everything, including his own life. But allowing him to survive really wasn’t worthy enough goal. No, Snape had to be glad to be living, otherwise it would mean nothing. How he was going to accomplish that though, he couldn’t imagine.

***

During the third task and the rebirth of Voldemort ,Harry felt sure he’d die, if not killed by the Dark Lord then certainly of a heart attack with the amount of guilt and self-loathing he felt when he saw Cedric drop dead once again. This time he really killed him and nothing anyone said could assuage him to change his mind.

From then on everything happened so fast it was a blur. And suddenly with startling clarity there was Snape. Snape, who witnessed the transformation of Barty Crouch Jr. and provided Veritaserum. Snape, who in an hour time would be at Voldemort’s side, trying to assure the snake of his unyielding loyalty. It made Harry sick that all he could do was stare. As he was pushed to the hospital wing, he knew what was happening at the other side of the castle. Knew Crouch would receive the kiss any moment now. And sure, there came the three of them, the cowardly excuse of a minister and at his heels, McGonagall and Snape. And then Harry was listing Death Eaters and knew Snape to be on the verge of confirming that these were indeed supporters of the Dark Lord, itching to ask Harry for details and Harry’s heart felt as if it was breaking for a second time this evening. He wanted to reach out, to speak to him, to tell him he knew what he had to do, to tell him he’d do anything for him to be useless, not to have to risk his life again, not to humiliate himself at Voldemort’s feet. But he couldn’t. Even if it wasn’t for the other occupants of the room, he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to speak those useless words. Snape had to go, because he was needed, valuable, indispensible part of the Order. And what a way to treat a weapon like him. It was evident how much Snape feared the Ministry. A whole year with a fake Moody and a fearful Snape, and even now while entering, his voice had lost all of his malice, afraid that perhaps he’d be the one sent to Azkaban this evening. And still mere minutes after his entrance **_Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled._**

**_ “There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff’s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold.”  _ **

Harry couldn’t and didn’t wish to vanquish the painful lump in his throat. Severus Snape might have been many unpleasant things, including a Death Eater, but he was no coward. Harry had spent many useless hours trying to do the impossible and change their relationship, when the bottom-line was just this – this man did not deserve to die. Pleasant conversations or snide contemptuous remarks, this person deserved his time. If he would only be so lucky to succeed in this task, Harry would have no regrets, even if Snape continued to hate him, he was sure. 

And next, when Harry had a chance to breathe freely and not in the center of attention, he heard what he had anticipated and dreaded.

**_ “Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…”  _ **

**_ “I am,” said Snape.  _ **

**_ He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.  _ **

**_ “Then good luck,” said Dumbledore, and Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius. _ ** **_ _ **

All Harry could do was watch.


	6. Year 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifth Year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

His first meeting with Voldemort in quite a while had been more terrifying than he remembered. Driven by the anticipation of the impending return of the Dark Lord, Harry had been reasonably anxious about inadvertently revealing not only his return in time, but also his thoughts about Snape, as well as his memories of what was to come. It had happened just the same as he remembered down to the interlocking wands, even with his parents appearing there to encourage him. Voldemort’s gaze had been penetrating, terrifying and very much paralyzing. While he hadn’t outright attacked Harry with a mind spell, it still felt as though Voldemort could see everything to the edge of his soul. Harry had felt the link between them instantly this time. He’d been the horcrux to return the man to his corporeal form once more and maybe it was because he knew of the bond they shared, but it felt as something solid and tangible. 

After the encounter, watching Severus still himself in order to go by the Dark Lord’s side, Harry still couldn’t tell if Voldemort had noticed something different about him. Since none of the adults felt the need to inform him and since he couldn’t even ask, he went back to Privet Drive without seeing the Potions professor again.

Returning to number 4, he had the instant wild urge to go straight to Spinner’s end, which was thankfully nipped in the bud when he realized he didn’t know the actual address. As it was, he settled for soldering through two fairly depressing months.

Harry knew no one would write to him as they had been forbidden to do so. He would have no way to tell if something had gone wrong until it was too late to do anything.

He didn’t dream of Cedric anymore as he had expected to. He dreamt of his mom once. She was crying and Harry tried to reach her, only to find her drifting further away the more he tried to get close. She’d felt like a stranger. The eerie feeling had stayed with him for several days after.

He’d dreamt of Sirius dying a couple of times, and even of Remus once. Not once had he dreamt of Snape during these couple of months to his bewilderment as almost all his waking thoughts were of the man. 

Four years had come and gone and things were getting serious now. He had blinked and here he was, with only brief moments left to prepare himself. Occlumency, venoms, healing spells and potions – those were the main points of his meager list of things he should definitely master. So far neither of them had been led to a satisfying completion – certainly nothing to cross off of it.

***

In the end, it had been a strange experience to meet a dementor in the end of that summer. The funniest thoughts ran through his head as he knew he couldn’t die that day and yet, he had the strange notion that he would not be able to produce a patronus. What could count as a happy memory in his life anymore? He’d detached himself from his roots, from his friends, from his life. His mom and dad’s love for him was but a distant memory of someone else that he’d seen in a pensieve. All he’d held dear, he’d not felt for the past four years. The only man he could speak to could not stand him. And yet he knew that if he did nothing, he would just end up riding along the memory, producing the spell perfectly none the less. 

He could not wait for this to be over and to get to Grimmauld Place at last. He could not wait for this summer to be over so he could see his awful potions teacher again, to find him alive and nasty as usual – breathing, speaking, hating him. It was strange how this thought filled him with resolve and he felt a perfect amalgam of joy and anger as he found his hand lifting the wand to produce the Patronus charm. 

***

The first evening in Grimmauld Place, just as the order meeting ended, Harry ran down the stairs just in time to see the familiar black cloak moving swiftly towards the front door.

“Professor Snape!”, he yelled after him and the man turned around rather startled it seemed to find him there. Harry backtracked as he saw him, his heart hammering suddenly as if caught in a crime scene. He tried not to smile and have Snape think him mad but Merlin he was glad to see him again.

“Potter.”, Snape acknowledged and Harry’s eyes roamed through his face, his posture, and his hands. He looked – not well exactly – tired, maybe even irritated, but okay.

“How are you, sir?”, he asked softly trying to sound natural and failing miserably.

“Why, thank you for your concern, Potter – I feel fine.”

Harry sighed and chanced a smile but it faded too soon to be counted as such.

“You won’t stay – for dinner.”, 

_ ‘Of course he won’t stay. Couldn’t you have asked a more stupid question?’ _ , he could have kicked himself.

Snape studied him in turn for a brief moment.

“No.”, he said coldly and he was gone before Harry could say anything else.

It didn’t matter however, as Harry breathed in deeply and smiled to himself. He hadn’t felt this light in a long time.

***

Harry didn’t have a second chance to catch Snape one-on-one in the safe-house. He wasn’t paranoid enough to believe the potions master avoided him on purpose. His godfather was enough of an excuse for Snape’s early departure. In fact, the only other time Harry saw him was in a heated dispute with Sirius. He couldn’t remember having seen this before but he couldn’t miss the opportunity as it presented itself. He was thinking along the lines of finding a leeway to let Sirius know how he felt about his attitude and what better time than when caught in wrongdoing. Of course, Snape too was off track but he didn’t think criticizing him would do any good.

So when he stepped into the living room, it was in the middle of a mutual verbal (thank Merlin) attack gone unintelligible as each of them tried to shout over the other.

“And here I thought only grown men were allowed in the Order.”, he said casually after slamming the door shut to silence them.

“Harry, stay out of it.”, Sirius barked immediately and Harry frowned.

“I will not. Now stop embarrassing yourself. You act like a child.”, he stepped closer to his godfather turning his back to Snape completely.

“ _I_ behave like a child! Ask Snivellus here –“

“His name is _Severus_.” Harry interrupted what was undoubtedly the beginning of another rant.”Not Snivellus, nor the greasy git, and neither the overgrown bat!”, he almost growled.“I’m fed up with this, Sirius. You’re both grownups now and it’s about time to act like it. Moreover, you’re allies now, on the same side, against the same enemy. Tomorrow your life may depend on him and I doubt you’ll be calling him Snivellus then.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually defending him!”, his godfather spat.

What Harry couldn’t believe was that he was actually able to say what was on his mind, but that was an entirely different point.

“Defending him?”, he turned around to face Snape, only to blink in disbelief at the totally inappropriate smirk on his professor’s face. Harry inhaled deeply to stop the sudden wish to wipe off the expression. “Please, sir, this is a private matter.”

Snape had the decency to nod and take his leave. 

When the door closed, Harry turned back to Sirius who looked livid.

“I’m not defending him, Sirius, but what I’ve said is true and you know it. Professor Snape may be many things, but I trust him with my life. I understand there are certain times when he’s pretty much asking for it, but – please, be the better man and refrain from acting like a child. You’re not in school anymore, and he’s risking his life to aid our cause.”

“And of course I lay here all day –“

“Sirius, stop it.”, Harry wasn’t about to listen to the same reasoning he suspected led to his death. “Or would you rather be in his place around Voldemort?”

“I didn’t make him go to him in the first place!”, Sirius now yelled.

“Of course not, but still… are you jealous of him? Is that it?”

“Of course not! I thought you at least would understand!”

“I do understand.”, Harry replied calmly.

“No you don’t! You’re _nothing_ like James!”

He didn’t have an answer to this. He never really had been like James, apart from the appearance but it still hurt when it was intended to indicate disappointment. 

Sirius meanwhile slumped in the nearest chair, looking entirely crestfallen.

“You didn’t mean to say that.”, Harry tried softly.

“No, I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry. I offended you.”

“No you didn’t. It’s just that – forget it.”

Harry stared at the figure ahead and his heart sank. He knew exactly what he had to forget.

“It’s just that you wish you could go back there, to those days when everything was simple and you were a free man.”

***

It was hard assuaging his godfather his worries weren’t founded, when two thirds of what he wanted to say wasn’t allowed to pass his mouth and the one third that could, was inexplicable. In the end, he spent his time at Grimauld place talking to Sirius about his past love interests as it proved to be a safe and sure method to cheer him up.

Snape, on the other hand, he saw again only after he was back at Hogwarts. He watched him intently every spare second he could chance to, while trying to the best of his ability to channel out the voice of the pink frog-like person currently trying to pass as the new DADA teacher. He still hadn’t forgotten her impact on the wizarding community while the Ministry was under Death Eater’s command. Personally, to him it still seemed that Voldemort’s horcrux didn’t really serve to worsen her temper in any visible way. He couldn’t wait for his first DADA lesson of the year, that was for sure.

Snape, meanwhile looked like his mind was elsewhere even though he seemed to be listening to Umbridge’s speech with rapt attention. He pondered at his memory trying to remember if anything of significance had happened around this time but came out empty-handed and decided he would wait and see how Snape would act in class. _Some_ , Harry’s inner voice included, _would have thought this conclusion would be the end of his observations of the potions master_ but Harry didn’t tear his gaze away until at last Snape noticed and stared back. 

As he turned away from the Potions Master, his gaze fell instead on the Ravenclaw table ahead only to find dark eyes watching him furtively. With a pang he remembered Cho Chang and their pleasant, if misguided, short relationship. Would he have to repeat this as well?

***

Dreams when coming to Hogwarts had the tendency to change quickly but he didn’t expect what followed later the same night. There he was, dreaming of the dark-eyed spiteful teenager, who normally accused him of treachery and worse crimes and then, instead of repeating the tradition, he simply came close to him and kissed him. 

When he woke up, Harry had to quickly redefine the term nightmare for this particular purpose especially given that the last thing he felt was fright. He could feel the ghost of soft lips against his lying in his bed and he thought it impossible to know how someone’s lips would feel without actually experiencing a kiss and yet here he was, wondering.

He felt positive it was his own fault, thinking of Cho before going to bed knowing he was going to dream of Se – Snape. _What was wrong with him?_

He couldn’t sleep after this episode and found himself mulling all night over the contents of his dreams and everything else that was either going to, or already happening. 

Finally he gave up on sleeping altogether and tried practicing clearing his mind which of course proved a challenge that kept him up till morning arrived.

***

In his first Potions class, Harry was tempted to ask the wall if it missed him over the summer as Snape went on with his speech about OWLs. Strangely enough, he missed the chance to glare at him, which Harry supposed was due to his now acceptable skills in the subject. Nevertheless, the Potions Master avoided looking at him throughout the whole ordeal and only passed him while assessing the work done by the class. Harry distinctly remembered what had happened last time and while he felt glad for the lack of repeat, he still found it odd Snape would deprive himself and the Slytherins from the chance to throw at least one scathing remark in his direction. As it was the only odd thing in his behavior, Harry couldn’t place it. Still, he couldn’t leave it at that. 

A few minutes before the end of class, there was a minor explosion that managed only to startle the others, while the contents of Harry’s cauldron turned pure black, puffing up tiny wisps.

“What’s the meaning of this?”, Snape yelled just as Harry had hoped he would while the students scrambled to see what had happened. “Silence!”, he ordered further and walked forward to Harry’s cauldron. “If it isn’t again Mr. Potter, the bane of my existence.”, he sneered to the expected snickering from the Slytherins. “You couldn’t survive a single Potions class without making yourself the centre of attention, could you?” Harry glared to the best of his ability at this. “If you yearn so much to spend time with my humble persona, I shall indulge you gladly.”, he added softly, expression forbidding. “Detention tonight at seven o’clock in my office for you.”

“As much as I’d want to,”, Harry answered with a defiant smirk, “I can’t make it, sir. You see I already have a detention scheduled for tonight.”, the Slytherins were openly laughing now and even Snape quirked his lips in an upwards direction.

“I see. Shall we make that tomorrow night, then? If of course, Merlin forbid, you don’t have previous arrangements.”

“As a matter of fact I do, sir –“

“ _Shut up, and stay after class, Potter_!.”

‘ _Gladly, sir’_ , he itched to answer but enough was enough. Snape would surely kill him the second there were no witnesses.

***

“What pray tell were those ‘arrangements’ that rendered you incapable to serve detention?”

“None that ‘render me incapable’, sir. Rather, another detention already in place for the whole week.”, he answered calmly.

“When did you find time and what effort did it cost you to put yourself in detention on your _first day_ of the school year, Potter?”, Snape sounded exasperated. Harry tried really hard to not find it funny. 

“Merely the effort to say a name and much more to suppress everything else I wanted to add, sir.”

“What.did.you.do?”

“I said that a certain Dark Lord was back.”, Harry ground out.

“Not in Defense Against the Dark Arts, surely.”

“Obviously right then and there.”

“To what purpose might that extremely foolish act serve, _Potter_?”

“Other than proving myself foolish to the extreme, none really.”, he stated and almost smiled.

There was something seriously wrong with him he was sure, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel good to be able to speak with Snape again.

“Which conveniently leads to our other point.” Snape winced and looked away from him and to the cauldron on his desk. “Why is your potion black, Potter?”

“So I could get a detention.”

“And the means to make me a laughing stock to your classmates.”, he hissed venomously.

“So I could talk with you.”

“And you were required a detention to do so?”

“Well, as we generally know how much you’d like to speak to me – “

“What is it that you want to talk about, Potter?”

“I wanted to know how you were.”

Snape stared at him uncomprehending.

“Is _that_ worth the loss of house points or the set back in your education to you?”, he asked incredulous.

“Certainly. It’s worth more in fact as the last time I actually knew what was going on with you was right before you went to – “

“Enough!”, Snape barked. “As you can see and as I’ve already assured you, I’m fine.”, he replied but continued staring at Harry as though he was a rare specimen he considered putting in a jar. Strangely, the boy didn’t mind in the least.

“So it went – well?”

“Rather well, yes.” Snape conceded.

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.”, Harry sighed.

“I wasn’t’ given much choice in the matter I assure you.”

“Not much but still, not everyone would have done it.”

“I will not discuss this further with you, Potter.”, his voice contained a warning and Harry’s desire for conversing subdued to it.

“Of course not.”, he nodded. “No sort of information is worth your life though. I hope you realize this.”

“Get out.”

“What about my detention, sir?”

“Do you really wish to serve detention, Potter?”, Harry shrugged. “Get out.”, he repeated.

***

A whole week of restless nights filled with dreams of a certain professor wasn’t what Harry intended to subject himself to, so he decided instead to devote only half his nights to the effort of sleep, while the other half, he spent a bit more productively studying. He had to admit it was only Potions and Occlumency in which he could concentrate enough to pull it. As a result however, Snape would have to mark his essay with something other than D, be it grudgingly, he mused. 

But Harry wasn’t being fair. Since he came back, it was a rather rare occasion for the Potions Master to deem his work lacking. No, Snape wouldn’t be surprised at the efforts he’d put in his moonstone homework, on the contrary, he’d be surprised _and_ disappointed, Harry imagined, if he scraped less than Acceptable.

His week passed with a bit of bleeding in the company of Umbridge, and a lot of time spent in the effort not to think about Snape. He couldn’t believe he actually wanted to have to endure Potions more than once a week.

***

When Harry received his graded essay on Monday, he did a double take. There in the upper-right corner stood a perfect round “O” and right below it a miniscule tightly scripted note ‘ _Try not to show the enthusiasm of an apprentice in future’_ . He was quick to hide the parchment in his bag in fear Hermione might see and reflect on her own grade.

**_ “I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL,” said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. “This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination.”  _ **

Harry watched Snape, studying his features, averse as he was to the complications this would bring forth. What was he trying to tell him? Was this a warning or was it a compliment? Or then again was it merely Snape simply not wishing for Harry to excel in his subject?

As the potions master swept past him on his way to the front Harry’s eyes swept up his figure to underline the curve of his neck, blissfully unmarred, and tried not to overthink the cryptic note.

He didn’t hear a word of what the Professor was saying, focused as he was on the man. Was Snape perhaps warning Harry not to draw unwanted attention by speaking with him? 

Harry knew that come second term he would have to attend ‘remedial potions’ even if Snape didn’t yet. Remark or no, he couldn’t afford to be good in Potions right now.

In the end, he decided to proceed with his original plan and by the end of the class, he had managed to mess up his potion marvelously. 

Snape smirked while vanishing the contents of his cauldron, effectively deeming him worthy of a zero. The gleeful expression his professor wore afterwards was definitely worth it, as was any chance to distract the man from more serious thoughts.

***

The next few weeks passed dully compared to the first and the only good thing about them was that he no longer had detention with Umbridge. But of course, the pink monstrosity was determined not to leave him unattended or, Merlin forbid, happy about something. 

Sure thing, she was there for his next Potions class. Neville’s outburst towards Crab and Goyle had again cost them ten miserable points but Harry suspected this particular deduction was nothing more than Snape venting his frustration at being supervised. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class, pulled out parchment, quills and their copies of ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’. The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent. 

“You will notice,” said Snape, in his low, contemptuous voice, “that we have a guest with us today.” 

He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon and Harry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee. 

He leafed through his book wondering vaguely if Snape would further vent his frustration on him in the next hour. He chanced a glance towards his professor and decided it would be for the best.

**_ “We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend – instructions –” he waved his wand again “– on the board. Carry on.”  _ **

**_ Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner. _ ** ****

Harry was decidedly intent on not letting Hermione correct him and making his potion passable in the process. Sometimes she really was way out of line. 

**_ “Salamander blood, Harry!” Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time, “not pomegranate juice!”  _ **

Harry ignored her with determination, focused on Umbridge instead.

**_ “Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level,” she said briskly to Snape’s back. “Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.”  _ **

**_ Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.  _ **

Harry who knew perfectly well by now how much Snape hated being in the center of attention, especially when the Ministry was involved, tensed in his seat, searching wildly for something to do. He couldn’t just go and blow up his cauldron, could he?

**_ “Now…how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” she asked, her quill poised over her _ ** _ **clipboard.** _

**_ “Fourteen years,” Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. Harry, watching him closely, added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange.  _ **

**_ “You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?”  _ **

**_ “Yes,” said Snape quietly.  _ **

But then again what was wrong with a tiny disruption?

**_ “But you were unsuccessful?”  _ **

Harry tipped the rest of the bottle he was holding straight in the cauldron. Unsurprisingly, a swift explosion ensued.

.

Snape tensed and turned instantly in his direction. Harry, hands on the back of his head, was resting his feet at the top of the table, smirking arrogantly at Umbridge while everyone stared at him. He’d be damned if the pink monster decided this was due to Snape’s lack of teaching skills.

“ _What.did.you.do.Potter_?”, Snape ground out crossing the classroom to loom above him threateningly. Harry flinched at the sudden change of proximity but remained apparently unabashed.

“I think I put a bit too much dragon blood in my potion professor.”, he answered calmly still staring at Umbridge who was giving him a calculating look.

“How much?”, asked Snape slowly and something in his voice made Harry turn his head. A big mistake which made him change his stance to the appropriate one for the classroom in impossibly little time. Snape looked murderous.

“The whole bottle.”, he answered closing his eyes and readying himself for any amount of shouting that would ensue.

“Stay after class.”, his voice was so low and dangerous, Harry would have smiled if it weren’t for the consequences of Umbridge being present.

As it was, Harry let Snape vanish the contents of his cauldron and started reading the last few chapters of his potions book. He didn’t miss Umbridge’s next question however.

“Is that how he normally acts in this class?”

“It isn’t a precedent.”, Snape ground out.

“There, there, Snape.”, she patted him on the back with a small smile. “There are some hopeless cases, I’m sure it’s not a question of your teaching abilities. As I’ve said, the class is fairly advanced…”

Harry tried hard not to smirk. He couldn’t believe it worked so quickly, but as Umbridge refrained from interrogating him further and swept instead to where Pansy Parkinson stood, he relaxed. 

Snape however, glared venomously at him for the better part of the next hour so Harry expected when they were alone next he’d lash out on him full-force. When nothing of the sort followed, he was suitably perplexed.

“Your detention will be tonight at six o’clock. You may leave.”, was all Snape said.

Harry couldn’t possibly leave to the ‘I wish you were dead’ look of his professor.

“You realize why I did it.”

“You fancied causing me to be put on probation? Oh, wouldn’t you love seeing me lose my job!”

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

“You were put on probation?”, he smirked.

“Not yet.”, hissed Snape.

“Oh come on, sir!”, he slumped to the back of the chair. “She hates me so much you’re practically her favorite person in the school right now.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and continued glaring at him. Now this was unwarranted.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

The Potions Master seemed taken aback.

“This is no excuse for you to blow up your cauldron. _Again, Potter._ ”

“Give me a second detention then.”, replied Harry smiling now. “Or duck a hundred points.”, something in Snape’s expression though caused him to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I’m being impertinent. I just couldn’t help it –“

“Oh, brilliant, Potter! You couldn’t help causing an explosion! You could have brewed this potion in your second year with eyes closed –”

“I can’t stand her foolish smugness, are you satisfied now? She comes down here, thinking she owns the place and starts interrogating you as if you were –“, Harry stopped himself as all expression vanished from the Potions Master’s face and he simply stared at him. Harry sighed deeply and bent forward, head resting in his hands upon the desk, staring at the wood below. “Perhaps it would have been best if I did nothing but it’s hard staying cool-headed in her presence after our time spent together in detention. Self-control isn’t my forte,”, he glanced up to check if Snape was alright and felt a dull pang when he met his stare. “My verdict, sir?”

The Potions Master cleared his throat uncharacteristically.

“It will be delivered six o’clock in my office.”

Harry didn’t wait to be shooed away this time, though he itched to ask what was wrong.

***

In the evening, with less trepidation than usual for his detention, Harry stepped through the door of Snape’s office a minute early. He knew by now earliness was punished by making the person wait about a quarter of an hour till the Potions Master so much as noticed his presence, so he sat down at the chair on the opposite side of the desk and watched him scribble with red ink along the length of an essay. 

It was amazing how a person’s appearance could change according to one’s assumptions. Snape wasn’t any different from the last time, Harry was certain of this and yet he seemed – elegant, even graceful to him now. So much in fact that he felt uneasy sitting there, not moving and just watching him, concentrated, as he was, on his scathing comments. With only a couple of minutes passed Harry was already immersed in his own little world, staring unseeingly at the long fingers holding the edge of the page. Afraid what Snape could see in his eyes once he lifted his head, he tore his gaze away from the man, jumping slightly when he was addressed at last.

“Come along then.”, he said and led Harry to the lab in the adjacent room. “Pain relievers for the hospital wing, Potter.”, he announced. “I trust you’ll pay attention to your actions.”

“You – you do, sir?”, Harry asked toying with a root on the table.

“Is there a problem?”, Snape asked daring him to object.

“Well I haven’t brewed a stable potion since –“, he couldn’t remember when exactly. “A long time ago, sir. How can you trust me with this?”

“How much dragon blood did you put in your potion today?”

“About thirty five drops more than necessary.”, Harry ventured, surprising himself.

“My point exactly.”, Snape smirked. “Now get to work. I’ll be monitoring your progress.”

Harry would have liked to brew at least two cauldrons at once but since he was out of practice, felt he should first see how one at a time would fair. The first attempt was easy enough and as it earned Snape’s approving nod, Harry continued with the next two simultaneously while his professor brewed some antidote right next to him. It was a bit of a challenge making an important potion in such close proximity to the constant distraction that was Snape and it got him a mild headache.

“Enough.”, the Potions Master said quietly after the third one to indicate he wasn’t supposed to begin with another. 

Harry glanced at the clock and saw that only an hour had passed, so he turned to Snape.

“Do you want me to do something else now?”

“Yes,” Snape managed distractedly. “Blood replenishing potion. The notes are on the desk. On-“, he lifted his head to asses Harry’s position only to find him lurking over the edge of the same cauldron. “Your left.”, he finished coldly and Harry immediately stepped back, taking hold of the paper. “You’ll find all the ingredients in my store. Don’t dawdle.”

“You trust me not to steal from your stores?”

“I cannot trust and suspect you at the same time, Potter, pick one point you’d like better.”, Snape snapped angrily and Harry smiled broadly though nobody saw.

“I never thought you’d come to trust me, sir.”

“I trust you with potions ingredients, Potter, not with my life!”

“You trust nobody with your life.”, he replied after a moment’s consideration.

“True enough.”, Snape conceded.

They continued brewing in silence for a long time after this until Harry decided he felt brave enough.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“May I use the Potions classroom after classes?”

Snape almost halted, then continued the aborted clockwise motion.

“Whatever for?”

“I wanted to practice the year’s curriculum for the OWLs.”

The Potions Master continued to stir his potion in silence for a few long moments.

“You may not.”

“Okay.”

“Students are not allowed to brew unsupervised.” For whatever reason Snape decided to clear it up a few moments later.

“I see.”, Harry replied trying not to sound disappointed.

***

In the consequent month Harry diligently botched every single one of his potions and Snape, consistent in his attitude, scribbled zeroes and assigned him detentions in which he made him brew various concoctions, mainly medicinal and/or off the regular curriculum. Glad as Harry was even with his overloaded timetable, the close proximity to Snape made him realize that with every passing week something was seriously off with the potions master.

“Is everything alright, sir?”, he’d chanced at last. “You seem a bit –“

“I’m perfectly fine, Potter! Keep your eyes to your potion now.”

“You’re not perfectly fine. Something’s been bothering you, I can tell.”, he insisted.

“And what are you imagining is this thing which is bothering me?”, Snape snapped.

“Well,”, Harry took his time adding a pinch of powdered valerian root to the contents of his cauldron. “Obviously in school everything’s normal at the moment, unless it’s something to do with Umbridge, which I doubt. So that leaves the Order.”

“As infallible as your skills of deduction may seem to you, and since _I’m fine_ , you’re perfectly wrong.Now be quiet.”

“Then it’s me.”, Harry went on as if he didn’t hear him.

“Meaning?”, Snape muttered reluctantly.

“I’m exhausting you.”, the Potions Master said nothing.

***

November and December passed quickly for Harry, who’d thought and decided Snape was due a well-deserved rest from him. Who knew what Christmas break would bring in the Potions Master life after all. The fact that Voldemort obviously refrained from summoning him through the school year, didn’t mean he’d continue to do so when Snape wasn’t supposed to be teaching.

So, in giving the man break, Harry spent most of his free time assessing the past months. He was fairly certain Snape started trusting him after the ordeal with his godfather back at twelve Grimmauld Place. It was strange though as the last time (of which Harry had knowledge) someone had defended Snape, that person had ended up hurt by Severus himself. Nevertheless, it seemed this was the point of turning as the Potions Master didn’t so much as sneer at him nowadays. Perhaps this was his answer; perhaps Snape no longer knew how to act around him. If this was it, it was a nice improvement.

***

He was glad to be with Sirius on Christmas break despite everything else so he made his godfather stay with him for most of the time telling him tales of the old days. 

Nighttime of course was especially reserved for Snape and the strange mixture of nightmares he now had about him. The contents of his head were so messed up these days that when he woke up, he wasn’t sure anymore if it had been a good or a bad dream – or the definitions of those as a matter of fact. The only bothersome thing these days was that ‘Snape’ was rapidly turning into ‘Severus’ in his head. 

As fascinating as dreaming about the same person over and over was, it wasn’t until a week of his arrival there that he finally saw him again in real life.

***

**_ He pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius.  _ **

“Hello, sir,” **_said Harry, to announce his presence._ **

**_ Snape looked around at him. _ **

**_ “Sit down, Potter.”  _ **

**_ “You know,” said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, “I think I’d prefer it if you didn’t give orders here, Snape. It’s my house, you see.”  _ **

**_ An ugly flush suffused Snape’s pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table.  _ ** He was going to have a headache.

**_ “I was supposed to see you alone, Potter,” said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, “but Black –”  _ **

“Sir!” he interrupted. “If you please, your reason…business…whatever…”

**_ “The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.”  _ **

Harry nodded curtly frowning a bit.

**_ “You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?” said Snape smoothly. _ **

**_ “Yes,”  _ ** ** **

**_ “Why can’t Dumbledore teach Harry?” asked Sirius aggressively. “Why you?”  _ **

“I suggest you ask him this question,” said Snape silkily and got to his feet. **_“I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.”_ **

Harry sighed as Snape turned to leave but his godfather didn’t let him get far. He got the idea that with these two things have always escalated quickly and he couldn’t even make himself listen to the actual content of the exchanged insults until of course the verbal assault threatened to turn into a duel.

**_ Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius’s wand-tip to his face.  _ **

“Stop this at once!”, Harry yelled at the Potions Master emerging between the both of them. “How – ah!”, he sighed in frustration as he realized he was about to insult Severus. “Please leave now, sir, before we all say something we’ll regret later. I’ll be in your office on Monday evening at six o’clock sharp.”

Snape nodded once and took his leave just as the others stepped in.

***

“Shut the door behind you, Potter.” Harry did as he was told with an ominous feeling which had something to do with the cold voice of his professor. He went on and sat at the only available chair across from Snape, who in turn stood up. What on earth had he done for Snape to act like – well, his normal self, he had no idea.

** _“Well, Potter, you know why you are here,” he said. “The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency.”_ **

To this Harry nodded. Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, “Now, Occlumency. As I assume you already know, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.” 

“Yes, sir. I understand I am to learn Occlumency in an effort to stop – the Dark Lord’s intrusion in my mind as for some reason he has access even at the considerable distance. If he ever proceeds to using this connection not only I would be vulnerable. So by all means, let’s start.”, Harry said in what he hoped was the calm tone of a well-adjusted person.

The potions master narrowed his eyes studying him before proceeding to remove four distinct memories from his mind, putting them in the pensieve instead. Harry knew by now that if it was possible for him to put them all there to safeguard, he would not hesitate to do it.

_ “Stand up and take out your wand, Potter.”  _

As Harry knew it was coming he braced himself for the first real trial of his diversion abilities and while forcing a wall to stand in the way (which was by far the easier part), he pushed through the memories he wanted seen.

**_ He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy…he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn…he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin…Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair…a hundred Dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake…Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe…  _ **

**_ “No,” said a voice inside Harry’s head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer _ ** **. ** He didn’t mean for Snape to see this one as it was about eight years old and from the original time-line. He never had to kiss Cho this time as fate had allowed him to simply console her instead. He was losing control over his own wall too quickly after all this time and practice and it frustrated him so much that he tugged at the mental wall and in bursting it to pieces, fought off Snape too.

It was too dangerous to play this game with Snape, as the man could clearly see too much, too easily. ** _He looked up at Severus, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark._**

**_ “Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?” asked Snape coolly.  _ **

**_ “No,” said Harry bitterly _ ** .

**_ “I thought not,” said Snape, watching him closely. “You let me get in too far. You lost control.”  _ **

“Indeed I did.”, he admitted with a sigh. This was going to be even harder than he thought.

**_ “Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been,” said Snape, raising his wand once more. “You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand.”  _ **

“I’m trying,” said Harry softly, “but I could feel my wall crack and let out certain things. Then I got frustrated…” 

“Close your eyes.” 

This is not a good idea, Harry thought bud did as he was told.

“Clear your mind, Potter,” said Snape’s cold voice. “Let go of all emotion…” 

_ Why this cold voice though? What was Snape angry at him about? Couldn’t he see that – _

“You’re not doing it, Potter…you will need more discipline than this…focus, now…” 

“Please, sir, I’m trying, but –“

“But what?”

“Have I done something to offend you again?”

“What?”, Snape spat.

“You haven’t treated me this way for a long time. And I find it – frustrating.”, he admitted.

“What are you blabbing on about –“

“You sound as though you’d rather be anywhere else –“

“Maybe that’s because it’s how I feel right now.

“Ah, I see.”, Harry replied, staring at the Potions Master. “But still I need your help right now. It is in fact imperative that you assist me in this.”

“That is what I’m trying to do, Potter! Now. **_Let’s go again…on the count of three…one – two – three – Legilimens!” _**

Harry braced himself as he attempted to repeat the procedure.

Once again, upon Snape fishing out the memory of Cedric dying out of him _,_ Harry found himself **_on his knees, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull._**

**_ “Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”  _ **

**_ “I – am – making – an – effort,” he said through clenched teeth.  _ **

**_ “I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”  _ **

“You think it’s that easy?” Harry yelled. “I can’t –“

**_ “Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily – weak people, in other words – they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”  _ **

“I am not weak,” Harry breathed trying to calm down. What Severus was saying was not supposed to be hurtful but helpful, he reminded himself with determination. Perhaps this had been the way he learned the skill.

**_ “Then prove it! Master yourself!” spat Snape. “Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!”  _ **

Trying again and again to do the same when he simply didn’t understand where he’d made a mistake, didn’t seem productive. On theory, it should have worked easily and it did at first but – maybe he was supposed to show those things? No. He’d have felt the gut feeling already. _No_. For now he was going to show Severus, he could shield his mind.

When next nothing happened, Harry frowned trying to make sure Snape had even attempted it. The Potions Master simply stared at him for a moment.

“That’s – an improvement.”

“Yeah, sure.”, muttered Harry resentfully. “You can go again.”

Half an hour later Snape reached to brush a drop from his forehead and Harry sighed.

“Would you tell me now or should I attempt to master Legilimency too? I guess it wouldn’t be that hard in your present state.”

“Don’t you dare try anything on me!”

“Do you really think I would?”, Harry asked exasperated. “I’m sorry, sir, for whatever it is I’ve said or done. It would have sounded more sincere if I actually knew what it was but still if there’s anything I can –“

“You are dismissed.” The man said with finality.

***

Next Monday in Potions Harry watched the man go about his business, wondering if he would act the same way towards him as last week. It was easy for Snape to ignore him for the most part when the room was filled with other students but when they were alone, it would show. He had the distinct feeling of whiplash with the way the Potions Master changed his attitude so rapidly.

That evening Snape was fouler to him even as Harry successively blocked two consecutive attempts. In the end he decided to try again improving what he actually needed and in the meantime showing Snape what he was so averse to see.

***

Harry was back in his first year: _“What have I done to deserve your hatred?”_

***

Then Harry in his second year:

_ “Sir!”, Harry tried several times to no avail till finally, “SHUT UP!” _

_ Snape stared him like he’d just realized he wasn’t alone in the room.  _

_ “Please, sir, sit down and rest for a few minutes. I’ll manage.” _

***

And again Harry in his third year:

_ “Famous Harry Potter disregards the authority of others, and lives to disappoint his protectors for he cares for none but himself and nothing but indulging his whims.” Harry concluded and sighed. “But that last bit is a lie, I admit. Pathetic Harry Potter actually cares for one person. And that one person is luckily the same he gets to disappoint on every step he takes.” _

***

Harry’s fourth year was next and he tugged at his wall as it was about to crack again. It wouldn’t do to happen now.

_ “I know ‘sorry’ isn’t enough. If it was, I wouldn’t be here. But I am. And I am sorry. I wish I could do something more than say that, but there is no use since I’m perfectly aware what a joy it is to be able to hate me with a clear conscience.” _

***

_ “I expected better.”, Snape conceded. _

_ “Ah,”, Harry smiled. “I live to disappoint.”, _

***

And then the wall really cracked letting through a final memory where Harry merely looked away, his face pained as Dumbledore wished Snape ‘good luck’ before sending him to the Dark Lord.

***

Harry panted kneeling to regain his control over his mind. This time it lasted longer it seemed but this was far from important right now. 

“You did it on purpose.”, Snape’s voice was low and soft now and Harry shivered slightly but hurried to straighten.

“Damn right, I did it on purpose.”, he muttered still lower.

“Sit down. You’ve exhausted yourself.”

Harry stared disbelievingly at the command but complied nonetheless and heaved a deep sigh.

“That last one though wasn’t supposed to come out at all. It just came through the crack.”

“The crack – in the wall you were speaking of last time?”, Snape enquired. “Is that how you visualize your blocking?”

“Yes.” He admitted. 

“It’s rather crude. You might want to try a slightly different approach.”

Harry snapped up to stare at him. Snape was talking to him – advising him – calmly. Were the memories sufficient to produce this result?

“Yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know, it’s your mind after all. I for one visualize a kind of a bubble.”

“A bubble.”, Harry repeated bluntly.

“Yes, Potter, a bubble.”, Snape said a bit impatiently. “You know the properties of a bubble. If it bursts everything goes haywire so your job is to never allow it. Rather like a shield charm when pushed but like a levitation spell when controlled. One moment of distraction is enough for the object to fall on the ground.”

“By distraction you mean an emotion… a weakness.”, he said thoughtful for a second. “I see. A bubble. But isn’t that dangerous? Isn’t it better to let just one go out than –“

“It _is_ dangerous. That’s what makes it effective for me I think.”

“I’d try but –“

“Yes?”

“I can’t – I can’t allow you to see certain things, sir. If I were allowed – to use the pensieve, I think it could help.”

Snape seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded.

Now this might just work out, Harry thought.

***

Harry tried to act on the prolonged beneficial behavior Severus had adopted since Monday, so on Wednesday in the break between two sessions he asked what he had meant to ask since his first year.

“Sir, may I ask you something?”

“Speak up then and we shall see.”

Indeed, thought Harry and sat in his usual chair a bit stiffly.

“Mr. Weasley, do you know how he was treated after getting bitten?”

“I don’t know the particulars but the principle is clear enough.” 

His answer much too vague to Harry’s liking, he pressed further.

“I want to learn how to make antidote to Nagini’s venom, sir.”

Snape stared at him transfixed. It seemed he couldn’t place this request at all.

“For what purposes, Potter?”

“In case – in case what happened repeats itself, sir. I’d never forgive myself if I let someone whom I could save, die in front of me.”

“This is not St. Mungo’s and the potion you’re speaking of is so far from the regular curriculum I doubt the Ministry would ever give you permission to study it.”

“What?”, Harry straightened in his chair not believing his years. “To hell with the Ministry!I’d understand if you’d said you didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with me yet more than you have to now and I’d back down immediately. But for you to try to affirm your position with the norms set by the Ministry – “

“Stop blabbing, Potter. Why do you insist anyway? It’s an off chance that Nagini will bite someone again.”

“I know I might be asking too much and I can’t make a good argument out of it. All I can say is that this is perhaps the most important thing to me right now. Not just the antidote, but the notion that I can actually do something to help if it’s needed. It’s not like it’s the only thing I need to know, but I must take precautions if I’m to survive and help others too. The war is just around the corner and I feel I must use however much peaceful time is left to get ready for it.”

Snape seemed amused to Harry’s astonishment..

“You can’t make a good argument, you say. Indeed. Alright, Potter, I’ll indulge your hero complex this time. Let’s see – if we are to do this we’re going to need to spend an hour on it twice a week. I should warn you it’s not an easy and quick to make potion.”

Harry nodded eagerly, not quite believing he’d succeeded in his persuasion.

“Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Don’t be so quick to thank me, Potter. I haven’t even told you my price yet.” he smirked.

“Price? What is your price?”

“Well you see, since my time would be further narrowed by this whim of yours, I won’t be able to deal with both grading students’ papers and restocking the potions for the hospital wing.”

Harry waited but nothing more was said.

“So you want me to do - which of them?”

“Both.”, Snape sneered. “I’ll expect you to be grading Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw’s essays and deal with the simpler potions – the ones we’ve already covered.”

“But I don’t have the right to grade – “

“It’s a liability for me as well.”, Severus admitted alluding Harry thought to something further than the legality of the action. “As for the right – you have as much right to grade papers as I to teach you how to make the antidote.”

“If – if you think I can cope, I’ll be glad to help.”, answered Harry somewhat dizzy with the complications of this arrangement. “You’ll check the potions before they’re delivered though, won’t you?”

Snape glared at him and Harry nodded quickly.

“Okay, as we’ve reached an agreement on this point, I suggest we now occupy ourselves with the task at hand.”

To this, they both stood and Harry sighed. This bubble thing, as much, as it seemed to work with Snape, was doing a tap dance on his nerves to such a degree that he thought he’d be lucky if he managed to pass his twenties without a heart attack. Every time Snape pushed further, Harry felt like being confronted with a dragon, even though he knew his more precious memories were safe in the confinements of the pensieve. As it was, he could sustain the bubble for less than two minutes before it burst and showered the Potions Master. The benefit of this approach was of course that the more the memories, the more chaotic the interference which gave him time to withdraw and not give any real information. Could he use that with Voldemort inside though? Somehow he doubted it.

“Don’t forget to – “

“I know.” Harry interrupted for he already knew the speech by heart. “Clear my mind of all emotions every night before I go to bed.” _You have no idea how depriving this is for a fifteen year old_ , he thought spitefully. But then again perhaps Snape knew too well.

***

Three weeks had passed and Harry’s life was in a stage more complicated than ever. He’d spent almost every day around the dungeons, grading essays, making potions, practicing Occlumency and most importantly, learning how to brew the antidote for Nagini’s venom. Every evening and spare minute, he’d spent in mulling over the steps he’d learnt towards the antidote.

Meanwhile, he’d just given the interview the past weekend and its popularity was at its peak, which also meant the end of the DA club was near. 

So far, so good, thought Harry who had started realizing he was getting rapidly addicted to the presence of the Potions Master. And though he knew the time was coming when their fragile peace would burst much like his mental bubble, he couldn’t help but enjoy seeing Severus daily almost as much as he enjoyed feeling productive at last. He found himself distracted more and more throughout the day, looking too attentively at Snape, catching himself only to lose the battle again when stray thoughts led him back to the Potions Master.

They had a tradition by now. Harry would find new ingenious ways to botch his potion just so, and by the end of the class Snape would come through to his cauldron to put a scathing remark to a set of zeroes on the list next to his name. It was all the same to him though, and it seemed that to the professor too as the latter never mentioned anything about his performance in class when they were alone.

But there was another side to this situation that Harry, even as infatuated as he was, couldn’t help but notice. His newfound feelings didn’t stand a chance with the Potions Master. There was the obvious error of the age difference for one, Snape’s unpronounced but definite preferences to name another, and of course Harry’s family. Even without the first two, the last item was enough to rob him of any hope he might have had. He looked like his father, whom Snape hated all his life, and a bit like his mother, whom he’d loved for longer than life itself it seemed. The only conclusion Harry could reach, was that for the Potions Master he was no person at all but a fusion of two, whose contrast served to drive him crazy just as much as it did Harry. Whatever he did, good or bad; whatever he said, smart or stupid; however he felt on the inside, he was either James or Lily, it seemed, and never Harry. It must have been mutual subconscious understanding they’d made to play those roles, him and Snape, but that didn’t help. He could appreciate now just how little control he really had over himself as well as over the situation and he didn’t bother try changing it, for he was sure it would prove impossible. Other things however were not, and on them he concentrated with all the effort he could muster. 

It was because of hard work and nothing else that by the forth week, he could make the antidote without the need of interference.

“Adequate.”, Severus pronounced his judgment and the word sounded like a thousand ‘perfect’s coming from his mouth so Harry beamed, glad he was a step closer now to his final goal. 

“I’m glad.”, he replied and thought he heard a ‘Hm!’ from his professor beside him. “I could still help with the grading and the potions if you need – “

“Definitely not.”, Snape snapped and practically shooed him from his private lab.

***

All the good things would come to end, Harry knew but that notion didn’t console him when the fragile peace was finally lost. As it happened, just after the headmaster left Hogwarts, he was fairly certain Snape’s attitude had changed for this reason. However, when it came to the Potions Master, Harry could be certain of nothing.

“Six weeks and this is the best you’ve got, Potter?” he snarled at him after a particularly long session. “Five pushes and that’s it? Deflate that arrogant big head of yours and control yourself better!”

“I’M TRYING!” Harry shouted exasperated. “I need a break.”, he pleaded. “Just a short one and – “

“A break is it that you need, Potter? But of course, this is perfect. You could always stop in the middle of a fight with the Dark Lord and ask for a break – just a short one”, he mocked, a vein on his temple pulsing now and betraying his boiling anger. “Get up! Legili-“

“Protego!”, Harry shouted at the same time and remembered suddenly this had already happened once before.

Then again he saw **_a hook-nosed man shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner…a greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies…a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick –_**

**_ “ENOUGH!”  _ **

**_ Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he staggered several steps backwards, hit some of the shelves covering Snape’s walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, and was very white in the face.  _ **

Was this coincidence? Was it what Severus had been thinking of or was it – perhaps fate?

**_ The back of Harry’s robes was damp. One of the jars behind him had broken when he fell against it; the pickled slimy thing within was swirling in its draining potion.  _ **

**_ “Reparo,” hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself at once. _ ** “What – do you think you’re doing, Potter?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to stop you, I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to do this. I’m on the edge as it is with everything that’s happened and with you pushing me further and further I didn’t think.”

Snape watched him through narrowed eyes.

“Have you ever?”

“Look, I did what I had to. What felt right.”, Harry replied thinking more of the DA than Occlumency lessons. It was after all what he thought Snape tried to imply. “If it was question of fault, I could take it, but it is not. This was prone to happen with or without my ‘mistake’ sooner or later.”

Snape sneered to this and crossed his arms.

“Go to your dorm, Potter. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

That didn’t make it all better of course. For Harry knew well enough his performance wasn’t good enough yet to stand any chance against Voldemort’s and he was running out of time. This made him forsake all the bubbles in the world in the hope that if a memory went past his wall it wouldn’t be a crucial one. After all it was either one or all with his current abilities.

“Sir?”

“What?”, Snape hissed – his usual behavior once again back.

“My line of thoughts – it determines which memories are pulled, yes? I mean, when I pull several out myself, the one that comes by the attack is most likely to be of consequence to the others, isn’t it?”

“How astute of you to finally notice a thread of logic.” His sarcasm dripped. “Most likely yes, but you can never be certain for it depends on the intention of caster too.”

“And if I don’t try to fight back? Would the memories you see be the ones that are on my mind at the moment or would they be random?”

“The more accomplished the Legilimens, the better chance there is that your memories would arrange themselves to his intent or, so to speak, to show him that which he is searching for.”

So Snape’s intent back then had been to humiliate him into concentration. That was certainly a revelation.

In the next instant Harry found himself locked in his mind watching a young Snape shout at him that it was all his fault. The moment he realized the Potions Master had casted the spell, he blocked him out and projected a different memory – one of Dumbledore telling him what he saw in Erised was himself with a pair of new socks. He knew this wasn’t fast enough though, even before Snape withdrew.

“What was that?”

Narrowing his eyes at the insulting tone in the three words, Harry stood up.

“What could it possibly be but a nightmare – sir.”

They glared at each other for a long moment before the practice resumed.

***

**_ Snape’s office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in.  _ **

**_ “Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry –”  _ **

**_ Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in some surprise.  _ **

**_ “It’s all right, Draco,” said Snape, lowering his w and. “Potter is here for a little remedial Potions.” .  _ **

**_ “I didn’t know,” he said, leering at Harry. _ **

**_ “Well, Draco, what is it?” asked Snape.  _ **

**_ “It’s Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help,” said Malfoy. “They’ve found Montague, sir, he’s turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.”  _ **

**_ “How did he get in there?” demanded Snape.  _ **

**_ “I don’t know, sir, he’s a bit confused.”  _ **

**_ “Very well, very well. Potter,” said Snape, “we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening.” He turned and swept from his office.  _ ** _ _

So this was it. The final straw which previously had served to drive Snape mad enough to end their lessons. And as much as Harry didn’t want to, he knew he had no choice but to once again see the OWLs memory.

Next thing he knew _, **a hand had closed tight over his upper arm, closed with a pincer-like grip. Wincing, Harry looked round to see a fully grown, adult-sized Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.**_

**_ “Having fun? _ ** _ **…So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb. “So… been enjoying yourself, Potter?”** _ ** __**

“Of course not!”, hissed Harry through clenched teeth.

**_ Snape’s lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.  _ **

**_ “Amusing man, your father, wasn’t he?” said Snape, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped down his nose.  _ **

Harry’s hand lifted to gently cup Snape’s on his other arm and stared in the sparkling black eyes.

“You really think I’d laugh at you don’t you? That I’d mock you?”

“You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!” Snape hissed. “You will get out and you won’t return. Ever.” He shook him by the arm completely ignoring Harry’s grip on his hand. “Do you understand?”

“No. I can’t do that.”

“Oh yes you can and you will, Potter!”, he almost yelled in his face.

“No. Hurt me, curse me if you want to, but I must stay where I am. I must perfect Occlumency, sir. I can’t stop coming here before that.”, Harry barely whispered now.

“You’ve had your chance. I have nothing more to teach you.”, growled Snape still lower.

“Control your emotions, sir. I can’t go away no matter how much you may need me to. If we leave it as it is, not I but you are going to be at greater risk.” _If he sees how important you are to me he’ll try using you to get to me,_ he thought desperate for the right words. __

“I can take care of myself, Potter!”, Snape spat. “Besides what is it to you?”

“You really don’t know, do you? Don’t you understand that if you were, even now, to tell me that you wanted to take me to him, I’d come with you without a word of objection?”

Snape let Harry’s arm free so abruptly he stumbled on his knees to the stone floor.

“Leave now Potter before I lose what little self-restraint I’ve got left”, he growled all his features contorted in something suspiciously akin to disgust.

“Lose it I don’t care.”, Harry replied softly still down with eyes on the stone below him and a hand massaging the arm back to life. “It makes no difference if you hate me or tolerate me. Moreover it doesn’t matter what you do or say. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your impact on my life and I know I can hate you just as much as you can let me die.”

“What are you talking about?”, roared Snape outraged and Harry lifted his head to see his professor trembling slightly with a hand gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles were white.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”, he replied calmly and slowly stood up. “And if the Dark Lord does what I strongly suspect he intends, he’ll find out enough to know what to do in order to destroy both you and me along with the wizarding society and I won’t be able to do a thing.”

Snape’s eyes darted to the pensieve and Harry nodded.

“What is it that you know?”

“It isn’t for you to know, sir. And I couldn’t tell you if I wished. This isn’t a matter of ‘what’ now. You’ll know eventually. The question is whether, after all those years, you’ve learned to trust me with more than a potion.”

***

The whole night Harry’s nightmares varied and merged better to suit the pain in his upper arm. Now he was not only being accused of everything he ever have felt guilty for, but he was also chased and consequently caught and pushed to the wall figuratively as well as literally.

When he woke up, it was the middle of the night and he was covered in sweat. Nevertheless there were some positive sides to the turn of events. For one, he no longer felt like the helpless little schoolboy he was afraid he was turning into. Also there was a renewed determination in him to face whatever obstacles decided to stand in his way, even if one of the obstacles was Severus himself. Despite that however, it was not a small feat passing the week without information about Snape’s decision of their lessons.

***

With next Monday came Potions class and with that, a Potions Master as vile as ever. Harry, who didn’t really want to confront him right now, worked diligently on his potion for the duration of the hour. That, of course, didn’t stop Severus glare in his general direction for the better part of the class. 

The hour ended too soon and just as he was about to stand and exit the room, Snape closed the distance between them.

“Sit down, Potter.”, he said glowering and as Harry waited for the others to clear out, he evened the glare. Snape eyed him warily before returning to his desk and finally speaking.

“You missed your Wednesday appointment, Potter, and here I was about to take you seriously when you said it was imperative that you continue.”

“It is!”, Harry started but shut up almost immediately. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

“Well, then I would suggest you miss no more of them at least till the end of the year.”

“Yes, sir.”, Harry nodded not sure if the conversation was yet dead.

“Go now before I change my mind.”, the Potions Master said softly and Harry sprang to his feet to comply.

***

“I want your word, Potter, that you will never again look at the memories in the pensieve. Otherwise there will be no more lessons.”

Harry sighed. He had expected Severus would need some sort of reassurance but he never thought his word would be worth enough.

“Of course, sir. I will never again look in the memories you choose to put in the pensieve, unless of course, if you give me permission to do so.”

Snape narrowed his eyes but nodded after a second. From then they resumed as though nothing at all had happened. Harry didn’t know if this was a good or not. 

***

In a few short weeks Harry had improved rapidly and was now able to hold off every attempt the Potions Master made and consequently push him out before his resistance broke. The sessions became something of a mutual enjoyment as it was Harry’s habit by now to choose to show Snape memories which he knew the professor would enjoy seeing. From his responses meanwhile, Harry gathered more and more information about Snape’s disposition towards various mutual acquaintances. He now knew that Severus enjoyed seeing Umbridge red in the face almost as much as he liked Sirius’s distress. As for Minerva McGonagall, even though he snorted at seeing her shouting about in her night-gown, it was obvious he held some level of respect for her as a colleague. It was obvious now that Severus’ disgust with Remus was a cover for his fear of the werewolf and he detested both Death Eater Moody and the real one almost equally. 

As their sessions progressed, Harry decided to experiment and show him some of his memories with the Dursleys, particularly those two where Dudley encountered magic first-hand. Snape’s reaction was entirely unexpected and Harry almost jumped as he heard the unfamiliar sound of his professor’s laughter. _There’s always a first_ , Harry guessed and reasoned that laughing was a normal thing to do and perhaps Severus had done it at least several times before. Still it was a shock.

“Sir?”

It took several attempts for Snape to compose himself but finally he managed after a minute or so.

“I beg your pardon, I simply never imagined – ah,”

“You never imagined – what exactly?”, tried Harry.

Severus eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged.

“The spawn of Petunia Evans – that’s what.”

It was Harry’s turn to eye him. He didn’t think this would be the outcome of his little share of memories but wasn’t about to let it go either.

“You knew my aunt, sir?”

“Yes, I – have met her a few times in my past.”, he admitted while Harry watched for any indication of tension on his face.

“But how? I mean she’s a muggle.”, he tried.

Snape squeezed his mouth in a tight line and let his eyes wander slowly around the shelves as if searching for an answer in one of the jars adorning the walls.

“We were neighbors – as kids.”

“I see,”, Harry replied somewhat thoughtfully. He didn’t want to push him too deep in revelations. It didn’t seem the right thing somehow. Then Snape glared at him and he frowned.

“I also knew your mother.”, he said as though he knew Harry was feigning ignorance.

“I know you did. You were the same year in Hogwarts.”, he tried.

“Ah yes, it’s as simple as that.”

“You called her a mud – “

“Oh, do shut up, Potter. It is one thing to go on a journey down memory lane, and quite another to accuse me of something which you don’t understand.” Harry smiled to this. “What?”

“So there is more to it. You never meant to call her that.”

“Of course I never meant it.”, he huffed. “She was my best friend –“

Harry smiled skeptically. 

“No she wasn’t.” Snape stared at him. “If one of my best friends nearly laughed when I was being humiliated by someone, I’d seriously doubt their sincerity. And also – I can’t imagine calling my best friend a mudblood.”, he muttered,

The Potions Master scowled.

“That is the reason,”, he hissed. “I said you understand nothing of it. It is not a matter which a _noble-_ ”, he sneered” Gryffindor could understand…. I don’t have your reasoning.”, he finished the sentence sounding resigned to Harry’s ears.

“She was a Gryffindor though.”, he replied finally. “Your best friend. It seemed she defended you mostly out of prefect duty. I would have never been able to tell you two were –“

“That’s enough, Potter!”

Harry took this to mean it was time for backtracking.

“Sir?”

“What?”, he asked warily.

“I’m glad you told me – be it after five years – that you knew her.”

The Potions Master narrowed his eyes but when he replied his voice was softer.

“I thought you might as well know now. After all you’ve already seen how our friendship ended.”

“So it did – because of a single wrong word –“, Harry said doubtfully.

Snape snorted.

“Of course it wasn’t just the word. Your mother and I had chosen to walk on different paths since our first year at school. I think the insult acted like a reminder for this – among other things.”

“Ah,” Harry sighed not sure how to approach this. “It was the war then.”

“I imagine, yes.”, Snape replied still softly. Harry stared at him. “What is it now, Potter?”

“I was thinking of the memory. Wondering why it was in the pensieve instead of your mind. I – I’d better shut up.”

The Potions Master lifted an eyebrow.

“The best decision you’ve made all evening, Mr. Potter. And as it is, it’s high time for you to return to Gryffindor tower.”

***

Harry spent the rest of the week thinking of the best way to talk to Snape about this. Not that he really wanted to speak about his mother when he was acutely aware the Potions Master still harbored feelings for her. But still, if he could get Snape to trust him with this –.

***

On Monday morning there was something wrong with the whole Potions class thing. Snape was absent for the most part, and when he was with them, he still wasn’t there. Harry was concerned it had something to do with mentioning his mother but didn’t dare speak to him until their evening lesson.

***

“Sir!”, he had to call, for Snape was so distracted, he’d forgot to cast the spell on the third time.

“Yes, just a second.”

Harry was tempted to quote the speech about seconds and Dark Lords but thought better of it.

“Is something the matter? We could always reschedule for another time – “

“That won’t be necessary, Potter.”, he snapped and pointed his wand at him.

Harry projected the memory of the past Wednesday and Snape went out of his mind before he had a chance to force him.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“I’d much rather talk tonight, sir, if that isn’t a problem.”

“You’re not here to talk, Potter. You’re here – “

“So I can watch you stare at me blankly the whole evening? Or should I try Legilimency now?”

As he got no response, Harry frowned and eyed him carefully.

“It is because of what we discussed, isn’t it?” that served to bring Snape out of his reverie. 

“It’s none of your business, Potter.”

“Is anything ever?”, he muttered to no avail. “I’ll be going now, sir. Let me know if Wednesday isn’t alright for practice.”

***

As the weeks passed, Snape slowly returned to his normal, bitter but focused self. Harry on the other hand didn’t notice this much as the time for the excursion to the Department of Mysteries was just round the corner and he had not one but two major issues to deal with there. 

The second one, which he had avoided thinking about till the last moment, served to push him out of his mind as it was the second time he’d seen Sirius die. And as the last time with Sedric, now too he felt certain it was his fault entirely. 

The good thing was that after so much practice on the art of Occlumency, the confrontation with Voldemort passed quickly and effortlessly – as he was so distressed with Sirius falling through the veil, the Dark Lord once again fled his mind quickly damaged by what he’d seen there.

***

But this time the yelling and smashing did not help. Nor could he blame anybody else for if he’d willed himself to say something – anything, it might not have happened. And then had come the terrible guilt with the realization that he hadn’t tried, for if Sirius had survived, Harry might no longer be able to save Severus’ life. It was simply too much to deal with. 

Then his nightmares chose to change and James, Sirius and Lily all yelled at him, were disgusted with him, questioned how he was able of such betrayal, how he could chose Snape over their lives, how he could forgive him so easily and actually love ‘Snivellus’ of all the available Death Eaters.

So, it was dreaming this when he slept and thinking about the same when he was awake for a week already and Harry chose to wander round the corridors of the castle for the most time, stopping here and there to take a deep breath or sag against a wall and just think. But it was hurtful to think, or to make further plans, when he felt he had already failed everyone who have ever cared about him. And when he managed to really think about what was coming next, it only served to hurt him more, because what was next if not Dumbledore? Yet another victim of his narcissism. 

But no, he had tried to reason, they would have died even if he hadn’t come back. He couldn’t have saved them all. “ _But you chose to come and save him_!”, Sirius would yell in his head then. “ _HIM you’d come back for! I can die, it’s no problem, let the slimy little Death Eater enjoy his life.”_

***

It was one of those nights, when Harry was sitting in an alcove trying his best not to lose his mind, that he realized he wasn’t alone. Turning his head, he saw a shadowy figure leaning against the opposite wall.

“Ah, I thought you’d never notice me, Potter.”, the familiar voice said softly.

“What are you doing here, sir?”, he asked tiredly.

Snape pushed himself away from the wall and took a few steps forward, towering over Harry.

“Wondering when you’d finally cry your eyes out and get over it of course. The headmaster appointed me with the hideous task of watching you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid it won’t be that easy.”

“Of course it won’t.”, he replied somewhat harshly and extended his hand towards him. “But you can’t be prowling the corridors for the rest of your life either.”

Harry took the offered hand and stood reluctantly. It was so much easier not concentrating on the movement of his body, so much easier to sink down –.

“It is what I deserve, you know.”, he said calmly. “It’s my fault what happened.”

“Is this the stupid hero-complex, Potter? You ran off, someone died. Oh what a surprise! What did you think going there in the first place?”

“Shut up!”, Harry hissed but at the same time sagged against him, leaving the control over his body. It was too much effort anyways and he was so damn tired.

Snape grabbed him by the arms and tried to hold him up as Harry leaned towards him instead of the wall. Then he lost it completely as his body started to tremble on its own volition.

“I couldn’t do anything – I could only watch as he fell – “ , his voice was unsteady for it was also too much effort to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.

“Do shut up, Potter.”, Snape said softly. “It is no more your fault than it’s mine. I tried to tell him to stay behind and tell the headmaster what had happened, but the fool didn’t listen.” Those words didn’t make much difference to Harry, who barely even heard them now. Over and over in his head he thought of Sirius and James asking if he was happy now that he’d done Snape the favor and finished them off.

“ – he was a grown man and made his own choice. There’s no one to blame but his killer and him.”

“I wish they would stop” Harry muttered.

The Potions Master’s hand left one of his arms to lift his head instead and his eyes searched Harry’s face.

“Who?”

“I can’t...stop thinking what they would say. I keep hearing, over and over –”

“When have you last slept, Potter?”

Harryshook his head miserably, too tired to explain that he couldn’t endure falling asleep.

“You need to go to bed right now.”

“No, sir, please! I can’t sleep, I –“

But Snape had already motioned him forward down the corridor.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Where you can stop wallowing in self pity.”

“Oh. Okay.”


	7. Year 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixth year  
> Lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

Harry hadn’t seen Snape since the night the man had deposited him in the hospital wing but thanks to this, he didn’t feel quite so bad the whole summer. Thoughts plagued him now and then but with the help of the set of potions he’d received as a parting gift form madam Pomfrey, he no longer had the urge to obsess over the matter of Sirius’ death. This of course didn’t mean there was no imprint left in his mind. As it was, he felt something inside him had snapped irreversibly and his relatives too couldn’t help but notice the obvious change in his general attitude.

Harry’s emotions swung like a pendulum frustrating him for the lack of control and focus. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything of import and yet he felt constantly guilty about not making any progress as time was passing him by. He had managed to make several good quality phials of the antidote which he’d already put in the appropriate stasis thanks to Severus who’d pointed out the proper books. It made him feel so incompetent that Severus should help him on every turn even if now it was supposed t be the other way around, but he paid no mind to this stubborn childish feeling. What mattered was that he had it. What was left for him to do was plan the actual events so that when the time came, nothing would obstruct his actions.

The thought that he might have to die this time didn’t even faze him and Harry knew it was the calming potions he was ingesting like pumpkin juice lately. He was not playing the hero this time, just a person who was too tired to even think of a life _after_. And perhaps it would be a form of divine justice, it would be only fair that he died after he’d let so many dear ones go before their natural time.

The dreams did not help vague as they were but filled nonetheless with death, lust and hatred. With every slumber, he felt he betrayed everybody who’d cared for him relentlessly without remorse.

It was like he was numb to everything. And even as Dumbledore came to fetch him and spoke of Sirius’ will, it couldn’t bother him less. _Yes, I killed him – and I’ll have to live with that. I have things to do, a goal set. I knew this would happen. I can’t let it push me off my course now. Whatever it is, I can deal with it after it’s all over._ That was all he could say to himself to assuage the guilt inside and disgusted as he was by this, it was becoming easier with every passing day.

***

It wasn’t until Harry first saw Severus, that he realized how much time had passed.

**_ “Someone’s coming down for you,” said Tonks, “Look.”  _ **

**_ A lantern was bobbing at the distant foot of the castle _ ** __ and Harry’s froze, his heart hammering inside his chest for no reason at all. Last time he’d seen the Potions Master, he was in no condition to think straight much less manage a rational sentence. And strangely he felt very much the same way now. His eyes roamed over the approaching figure, drinking in the shadowy features of the man who owned his every thought.

**_ “Well, well, well,” sneered Snape, taking out his wand and tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backward and the gates creaked open. “Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance.” _ ** __

Harry didn’t even register he was addressed in any way but simply stared on at the professor.

**_ “There is no need to wait, Nymphadora, Potter is quite — ah — safe in my hands.”  _ **

**_ “I meant Hagrid to get the message,” said Tonks, frowning.  _ **

**_ “Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally,” said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, “I was interested to see your new Patronus.”  _ **

**_ He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.  _ **

**_ “I think you were better off with the old one,” said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. “The new one looks weak.”  _ **

**_ As Snape swung the lantern about, Harry saw, fleetingly, a look of shock and anger on Tonks’ face. Then she was covered in darkness once more.  _ **

**_ “Good night,” Harry called to her over his shoulder, as he began the walk up to the school with Snape. “Thanks for…everything,”  _ **

**_ “See you, Harry.”  _ **

Harry went alongside Severus on the alley leading to the castle, eyes fixed to the ground until the Potions Master broke the silence.

**_ “Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think,” said Snape. “And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don’t believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term: We haven’t even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter.”  _ **

Harry had to remind himself that the last few years have passed differently than the last time, for Severus Snape gave away no indication of that fact.

After a few silent moments though, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder effectively stopping him. He turned to look at his professor.

“You have taken your potions, I trust,” Snape gave a flick of his wand and the tip ignited illuminating his face. Harry blinked and turned away from it frowning slightly.

“Yes, I have.” He muttered softly and it sounded sad to his own ears.

**_ They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall. _ ** ****

Harry sighed and before his professor could continue repeating himself strode off at fast speed to the Gryffindor table.

All the notions and fancies he’d allowed himself to build up while he was away had been effortlessly shattered not two minutes in the man’s actual presence.

***

**_ “We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn”— Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waist-coated belly casting the table into shadow — “is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”  _ **

****

**_**_ “Potions?” said Ron and Hermione together, turning to stare at Harry  _ ** ** who shrugged and stared ahead to the high table _. “But you said —”_ ** _ **

**__**

**__**

**_ “Professor Snape, meanwhile,” said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”  _ **

There was no triumph reflected in Snape’s features. Harry wondered if this was a change in his or the professor’s perspective on things. Most likely the former, he concluded as Severus had nothing to celebrate this year. The gratification of his wish to teach DADA was merely a consolation for what he was about to do. Dumbledore was making sure he would be the one to appoint the next potions master in the school before his plans unfolded.

Harry tore his gaze away from the high table, still feeling acutely a phantom hand, warm and heavy on his shoulder.

***

In his first DADA class of the year Snape behaved much the same way Harry remembered. There was no surprise, really. Harry guessed he’d thought on at least several occasions about his speech to every year in this particular class. It was, after all, his ambition for years.

**_ “…you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?”  _ **

**_ Hermione’s hand shot into the air. _ ** To Snape’s undisguised surprise so did Harry’s. _Now this is a dilemma_ , Harry ventured. _The know-it-all or the bane of his existence_.

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry lowered his hand, his throat unusually dry.

“By using a nonverbal spell instead of saying the incantation aloud, you gain the few crucial moments in which your opponent might otherwise recognize your spell and counter it.”

Snape turned his eyes from him to sweep the class once more.

**_ “You will now divide - into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on.”  _ **

Just as the last time, Harry coupled with Ron who wasn’t able to produce a spark without at least muttering. Snape had watched them for several minutes and seemed to have finally lost his patience.

**_ “Pathetic, Weasley,” he said. “Here — let me show you —”  _ **

**_ He turned his wand on Harry _ ** __ who breathed deeply assuring himself Severus wasn’t simply going to curse him in the classroom.

“You focus your thoughts,” he muttered. “simultaneously on the effect you seek and the incantation itself.It is not the word that produces the effect but the control you exert over your own magic. Like this,” he flicked his wand and Harry barely managed to produce a wordless shield to the mild stinging hex.

Snape eyed him thoughtfully but stepped aside.

“Here now, try again.”

Harry very much doubted this was what would indeed have happened the first time around. This thought however, did nothing to cheer him up as he knew that even though he was one step closer to the fulfillment of his duty, his heart’s desire was still millions of miles away. 

There was no use in trying to achieve a detention from the professor this year. Though he felt sure it was imminent, he couldn’t afford to waste Snape’s and his own time and nerves. What good could it produce anyway? In the best of options, Harry would say something he’d regret later. No, this state of things was alright. Besides he was starting to realize it hurt to be around Severus these days.

***

Harry spent the following week studying for he found he had nothing better to do round Hogwarts anymore. The transfiguration study was going as well as it could as it was bound to be slow and time consuming and when he didn’t give it his full attention, Harry went on long walks – by himself when he could manage it or otherwise with Ron or Hermione – around the castle and the grounds. Still, he felt like a beast in a cage, free to go everywhere but where he wanted to. Watching for Malfoy on the Marauders map now and then, he felt sure the situation was as he remembered it as the teenager was lurking around the seventh floor more than anywhere else. When he wasn’t watching him, he looked for what Snape was doing. The professor seemed a bit restless whenever he saw him there, for the labels changed it seemed every other minute. It was natural though, Harry thought, with his present state and liabilities. 

***

It wasn’t until Saturday afternoon that he saw the professor again. Harry was walking on the side of the lake, looking in his map when he located Snape not very further down on the grounds with a label titled ‘reading’. As it was unusual for the professor to be engaged in this sort of activity outside, puzzled, Harry followed the path to his location. Sure enough, he was there, far from any students or other professor, sitting on the grass near a tree looking lost in his book. Harry approached him carefully, even more confused now. His whole concept of the formidable Potions Master diminished with the ungraceful, careless stance.

“Sir?”

Snape whirled around to face the voice and there was a brief glare there on his face before he composed his features.

“Potter.”, he acknowledged.

Harry smiled slightly, leaning to the side of the tree quietly.

“Are you going to stand there and stare all day?”, Severus said at last a bit exasperated. Fair enough, Harry thought and chuckled.

“No. Just as long as it takes to commit it to memory.”

“Go away, Potter.” He said but there was no malice in the words.

“I will but promise me not to put this in the syllabus.” Harry said indicating the long forgotten gift now open in Severus’ lap.

“I assure you that the ones least equipped to handle the content, already know it too well.” His professor replied softly closing the book. “What are you scheming these days?” he asked and Harry smiled before he could stop himself.

“Why are you so sure I’m scheming?”

Severus sighed heavily, “It has been my job for too long to know when a student is up to something.” He looked at him sideways, black hair covering most of his face. “And you, Mr. Potter, are always up to something.”

Harry felt laughter bubble up in him, and giddy with the sensation he let it out. Severus looked so young just then, careless, teasing and perfectly correct as usual. He felt his chest constrict, suddenly longing for more and knowing with a new clarity that he was utterly gone on a man who’d never see him as anything more than a duty and a burden. Merlin, but he looked beautiful to him just then.

“I will leave you to your reading, sir.” Harry said still smiling even if he wished to scream instead.

***

When he later thought back to that moment, venturing for explanation of this extraordinary behavior, Harry came up with a few very unbelievable excuses for Snape to be there of all places. Perhaps the tension was too much for him, perhaps he couldn’t come to terms with his new office and classroom. Either way, it was very nostalgic to see him sitting right there on the ground reading a book. He looked at least ten years younger like this. And contrary to rational thought and self-preservation, Harry missed spending time with his professor. 

***

“POTTER!”, Snape’s voice boomed in the classroom in the second after he had deflected said pupil’s curse.

Harry’s eyes were wide with surprise, not with the yelling of an angry Severus but because of the fact that he actually fired the curse in his direction in the first place. _What was wrong with him?_

Well, admittedly a lot was messing with his head, especially when he was in one room with the professor but to get so distracted as to not only direct his thoughts towards him, but also his wand, was unforgivable.

Harry shuddered and took a few steps back almost involuntary, though he was well aware there was no escaping Snape’s well-reasoned outbreak.

The DADA professor seemed to glide over the stone floor so fast that Harry only blinked and he was already looming over him.

“Idiotic boy!”, Snape hissed threateningly. 

Harry shook his head stepping back.

“I’m a moron…”, he mumbled almost incoherently.

“What?”, Snape snapped.

“Nothing.”

“Give me your wand.”,

“What?”, Harry’s voice went an octave or two higher, instinctively dreading the request.

“Your wand, Potter.”, he drawled. “Or you thought I’d allow you to continue trying to hex everything you can point at?” Harry extended his hand offering his wand. “You can get it once the class is over. For now – you can attend to the other students. I’d recommend miss Patil and miss Brown over there.”, he turned round but halted after only a step. “It is not necessary to mention you just lost Gryffindor 50 points and you are to serve detention Saturday night in my office, is it, now?”

Harry exhaled slowly and turned to walk towards Lavender and her partner ignoring the sniggering from the green part of the room.

***

As the lesson ended Harry waited for everybody else to file out to go get his wand back. Ron passed him with a strange look which spoke of concern and a little bit of amusement. It wouldn’t do to laugh at this situation however.

Harry approached Snape’s desk, still overwhelmed at the loss of control needed to have spaced out that much..

“Once again you manage to surpass every expectation there is for your next step, Potter.”, Snape addressed him coldly. “Cursing your professor in class – that is a bit over the top even for you, don’t you think?”

Harry swallowed with some effort. So he thought this was another one of his games, great.

“I lost control, sir.”, he admitted quietly.

Snape smirked narrowing his eyes.

“I’d advise you, if you want to hex me so much, in doing so when there are fewer witnesses to this act. There is, however, no real chance you will succeed.”

“I’m glad! I don’t know what overcame me to do this but I’m glad I cursed you of all the people in the room. If it was anybody else, they might have gotten hurt – I can’t believe I spaced out like this…”

Suddenly Snape rose to his feet going around the desk to capture Harry’s chin and turn his face upwards. Staring at his professor’s eyes Harry froze, reminding himself that this was not a dream and even though the hand felt warmer than he’d imagined, he couldn’t allow himself to do anything.

“Are you drinking your potions to the schedule?” Snape asked, his face contorted into a mixture of anger, some concern and something else Harry didn’t have a name for.

“N-no.”, his voice shook and he squeezed his eyes shut cursing himself for not being able to collect himself. “It’s something altogether different, sir.” he breathed out almost as a whisper and just as suddenly as he had advanced, Snape retreated a step backwards causing Harry to clutch at the desk for support. “I’m not hearing things again.” he managed realizing how crazy that sounded.

“You are going to be late for your next class, Potter. Go. Now.”

Snape might have said it calmly but something in Harry snapped to life on the mention of a way out and he almost ran out of the classroom bumping into some third years as they were trying to enter. With the door closed and finding himself alone in the corridor, Harry collided with the wall and let himself drop down, hands covering his face completely.

“Your wand, Potter.”, Snape’s voice came to him somewhat annoyed and Harry looked up to see him there.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Hm.”, was the only reaction he got.

He was – pathetic and he knew now how obvious this was. Trying to compose himself too late, Harry managed to get up and hurry to his next class.

***

It wasn’t until Thursday that he saw Severus again. Much to his own distress, he had taken up to follow the professor’s dot on the map whenever he got the chance and this day when he’d seen Snape was again ‘reading’ by the lake, his legs moved on their own accord taking him there. Realizing what he was about to do, Harry halted, too certain in the outcome another try at small talk would bring forth.

He chose instead to sit on a fairly distant bench, watching him and feeling sick of himself. He was a mess, totally obsessed with something he was never going to have. The worst thing was he was so much out of control of his own thoughts and actions by now, that he couldn’t and didn’t really want to change this fact even a bit. Harry didn’t have the slightest idea how he got in this mess. It must have happened gradually for him not to notice. With the dreams morphing and the thoughts intensifying – and here he was now – a pitiful man eight years older than he was supposed to be, pinning for a man and not any man but one who loathed him for too many reasons to be counted.

“Spacing out again, are we, Potter?”

Harry hadn’t realized Snape had left his spot by the tree as he was too lost in his musings. The cold voice felt like well-deserved torture.

“Why are you alone here?”

Harry glanced around surreptitiously and saw they were quite alone as it was getting dark already. 

“Needed some peace and quiet, sir.”, he chose to say for it was true for the most occasions he ventured alone through the grounds anyway.

Snape looked up towards the castle then back at him.

“I can – imagine.”

As Harry smiled, the professor chose to take his leave. So much for peace and quiet in his head, he thought absently.

***

Saturday didn’t go as planned for Harry. At least not after the Quidditch try-outs. Slughorn again invited him to his party and Harry told him about his detention. What Harry didn’t expect was to get a note not from Severus but from the Potions professor a little while later, telling him he could go to the party instead. He didn’t know what to do with this piece of information. What was the DADA professor thinking now? Was he really this desperate to rid himself of Potter’s company to allow Slughorn to convince him? And what was Harry supposed to do now – go to the stupid party? He had no business there in the first place and he couldn’t imagine sitting there all evening listening to nonsense. But he couldn’t really avoid it now, could he? Not after Snape had inadvertently pushed him into it. Whatever Harry chose to excuse himself with, it would be bloody obvious he just didn’t want to go.

To hell with it, Harry thought and got up to change his robes. Anything that could occupy his attention tonight instead of thoughts of Severus was welcome and much needed.

***

An hour and a half later found Harry at a table next to Hermione, wishing he was almost anywhere else. He had endured Slughorn’s questions and everybody’s answers for that matter. Even though they were supposed to be new to him as this was the first time he’d attended this particular gathering, it was really just the same old thing with new particulars.

It was pitiful, but he couldn’t think of anything else, so…

“Excuse me, sir, I’m going to headoff to Gryffindor tower a bit early.”

“Is something the matter, my boy?”, Slughorn asked concerned.

“Not really, professor. I’m just too tired to make good conversation, my apologies.”

“Not at all, Harry, not at all! Go ahead and rest. We wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself onour behalf now, would we?”

“Thank you, sir.”

***

Getting to the dorm wasn’t enough of course. The first thing Harry did was extracting the Marauders map from his bag and finding Snape on it. Not sure what he meant by it, he nevertheless took his cloak and exited through the portrait.

***

“Enter.”, Snape called as Harry knocked still under his cloak, only leaving it after he closed the door. “Potter.”, he stated not betraying a hint of surprise.

“Yes, it is Potter again with a minor request, sir.”, he stated leaning on the door. “If you don’t want my company, don’t hand me detentions, sir. You have Filch for that, you can make use of him. But whatever you choose, please, and I mean _please_ , stick to it and don’t hand me over to various Potion Masters instead.”

Harry knew deep down this wasn’t the kind of thing Severus would tolerate and was therefore a bit surprised when the lash out didn’t follow immediately.

“You didn’t enjoy the party, Potter?”, Severus smirked no doubt about to give him the fame speech again but Harry was faster.

“Would _you_ have enjoyed it, sir? – He was alluding to me being the ‘chosen one’ every other minute.”, he mumbled the last part through gritted teeth. Snape snorted to this but said nothing and Harry grew tense sensing it was time to leave. “Just tell me when to come for my detention and I’ll leave you to your work.”

Snape stared at him for several moments before rising to his feet.

“Now would be as good a time as any.”

“Now?”

“Yes, Potter, now. Come here.”, he commanded and Harry, be it a little disturbed by the thought, did as he was told without complaint. “I have these texts here,”, he pointed to a pile of ink-stained dribbles. “which I can’t grade for rather obvious reasons. I expect you to put them right for me in the next couple of hours.”

Snape sat back down after Harry did the same and returned his attention to his own pile of homework.

“This is the most pointless thing I’ve done in my life!”, he muttered after several minutes. “Why don’t you just give them a zero, sir? With the obvious disrespect they’ve been written, it’s clear this is what they deserve. Even without the ink, they’re almost illegible,” Harry skimmed across a few more of the pile. “And frankly their content is worthless.”

Snape frowned, lowering the parchment he was currently reading.

“Ever thought of a career in education, Potter?”

Harry looked at Severus and then at the parchments.

“I have – just now. It’s not for everyone, is it?”

Snape snorted, leaving his parchment for one of the stained ones.

“You realize now why I delegated the task to you. I’d find you something more useful to do but my hands are quite empty at the moment, as you can see.”

Harry found himself smiling at the smallest chance this presented that Snape didn’t really hate his presence that much.

“Would you, by any chance, be so disposed as to let me grade those for you instead, sir?”

Snape glanced at him suspiciously for a moment but nodded all the same.

Harry didn’t wait to be told to go ahead, but grabbed the red ink and started immediately.

***

It was a bit less than an hour later when he put the quill down.

“If this is the standard, you should give A’s to those who manage to write their names correctly.”, he said annoyed while pushing the papers into a tight pile.

“You have finished?”, Snape frowned.

“I’m afraid so. You can check it if you want. There were actually three Acceptable and one EE in the pile of utter rubbish but nothing more. I know you reserve D’s for your favorites only, so feel free to skim across the names. You can deem all the P’s a D with clear conscience anyway.”

Snape looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to glare or to smirk right now and finally he settled to a frown.

“I admit I am rather curious, Potter.”

Harry stared at him for a second.

“About what, sir?”

“Your behavior since you came back has been – odd for a lack of a better word.”

“It has, hasn’t it?”, he replied pensively. “It’s nothing serious, sir. Just an infatuation I can’t get out of my head by any means I’ve tried.”

“Why would you want it out of your head, Potter?” Snape asked quirking an eyebrow and still managing to look nonchalant.

“I don’t, not really, but I have to–“, Harry clenched his fists. Talking about this with Snape was decidedly the last thing he wanted to be doing. “I have no place for it in my life, and no time. And even if I did, this is a matter of a completely one-sided affection, so – it’s not meant to be for me. I’m sorry, sir, I said too much.”

Severus looked at him frowning and took his time to reply.

“It is alright, Potter, after all I was the one who wanted to know. You can go now. Your detention is over.”, Snape seemed lost in thought now.

Harry got up but wavered over a question he couldn’t contain.

“Sir?”

“What now?”

“May I ask you the same question in turn? It’s not my place to do so, but I’ve – “

“I simply have a lot on my mind, Potter.”

“Something with the Order?”

Snape sighed exasperated and looked him straight in the eye.

“Yes, something with the Order.”

“Are you going to be alright, sir?”

Severus narrowed his eyes for an instant, then relaxed them and redirected his gaze to the side.

“I don’t know.”

Harry felt his heartbeat speeding up. So this was how he had felt all this time. And this was only the surface of his thoughts and feelings if he thought he could confide it to him of all people.

Harry contemplated the choice here, for he was certain if he wanted, he could tell Severus that he knew what he had to do and yet he still trusted him implicitly. But – what good would that do? Surely, if he’d asked what he could do, Snape would never answer him truthfully. Slowly, he realized this was no longer a matter of words here between them. It was about Harry finding a way to ease this tension, not letting him fall any deeper under the weight of his impending duty. But could he really do anything to help Severus? Didn’t Severus himself want to be left alone – no, he couldn’t let the past repeat itself. He couldn’t forgive himself then and there was no way he’d forgive himself now. He himself had lost his life for this man, had lost eight years which would never come back to him, regardless of the slowly merging timeline; had lost his friends, everyone he cared about, but Severus. And now Snape was all that was left to him. The only person that excited him, moved him; the only one he gave a damn about was he. He had to do something, anything, to be close to this man in what was perhaps the last year, for who could know what would happen next? No, this wasn’t the time to be self-depreciating. 

Harry lifted his head to look at the man in front of him and doubt seeped back inside. Still what if he could do nothing to help him? What if perhaps he stood in the way of Snape’s peace and precious balance? After all, who knew if Severus would appreciate Harry doing anything for him, even appreciate his company? In the original timeline Snape had hated him and had wanted nothing to do with him – why should it be any different now? 

“-time you go back to your dormitory, Potter.”, he said calmly but Harry barely registered only half of his words. “Potter,”, Snape repeated. “Are you alright?”

_ ‘I am a fool.’, _ Harry thought, already getting up.

“Yes, sir, quite alright. Good night.”

Severus looked suspicious but nevertheless let him go without a comment.

***

Sunday morning came slowly for Harry, who hadn’t slept much in favor of tossing and turning and contemplating.

During breakfast, he watched Snape while he ate and conversed with the other professors. Then he watched Snape’s dot as it went to the dungeons and to the potions lab. Seeing this, Harry leaped up and took off.

***

Entering, he saw Snape’s back was turned to him as he was bending over a cauldron on the table in the center of the room. It seemed Severus hadn’t noticed him as he approached closer until he said.

“Pass me the wormwood, please.”

Harry started but composed himself quickly enough to look around the room and spot said jar.

Lifting it, he passed it to Snape’s outstretched hand, getting the impression, as the professor didn’t so much as look at him, that he didn’t know it was Harry in the room with him. 

“Thank you, Potter.”, he replied, dispersing the illusion.

Harry leaned on one end of the table looking into the cauldron as Severus stirred.

“Wolfsbane.”, Snape stated. “I haven’t gotten as far as teaching you this one.”

Harry looked at the many empty bottles and jars on the table and then back to the cauldron with new appreciation.

“It looks far beyond my level of understanding and skill.”, he admitted.

“Yes. It is quite – complicated.”

A few minutes passed in which Severus seemed engrossed in work. This gave Harry time to rethink the concept of him sitting under a tree and reading a book. Was it perhaps the fact that the last time Severus had done it, he was still at school? Was it means to distance himself from the reality just as making a potion as complicated as Wolfsbane was sure to be?

“What are you doing here, Potter?”

Harry swallowed with some difficulty. Surely, if his presence bothered Snape, he’d have tossed him out the minute he entered.

“I saw you and thought I might be able to help. Is my presence a hindrance to your work?”

Snape snorted rather humorlessly.

“You can certainly help if this is what you want. Come here and stir while I prepare this one here.”

As Harry reached to take the ladle, his heart skipped a beat at the momentary touch of the man’s hand. He cleared his throat and immediately checked to make sure his hand wasn’t trembling.

“Any particular pattern I should follow?”

“Just continue stirring clockwise if you please.”

Harry’s head snapped in his direction, though his hand started traveling clockwise. He got the distinct feeling this was Snape’s way of apologizing but for the life of him, he didn’t know why.

“I rather miss the detentions with you, sir.”, he tried.

Snape snorted again, this time though he seemed amused too.

“I don’t doubt it, since I overindulged you.”

Harry chuckled quietly. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had one genuine detention with him.

“I suppose you did. But these were the times when I actually learned something, never in class.”

“Why yes, Potter, since you’ve always required special attention and you couldn’t get it by being one of the many students in the classroom.”

The silky tones didn’t blunt the edge of the truth in this statement, nor the dull pang which hit Harry so suddenly, he almost dropped the ladle.

“If I was so spoilt – why did you indulge me, sir?”

Snape looked at him with an annoyed expression.

“I never said you were spoilt, Potter. And if you stop stirring, I’ll add you next.”

***

Half an hour later found Harry leaning on the table and silently watching Severus decreasing the flame under the cauldron.

“What are you staring at, Potter?”

“It’s like meditation – watching you brew, I mean. I can only imagine it calms you too.”

Snape huffed, not even looking in his direction, watching instead the contents of the potion and inhaling deeply.

“What is your agenda these days, Potter?”

Harry lifted his eyebrows then frowned.

“I don’t have an agenda.”

“Rubbish, Potter, you always have an agenda especially when it concerns accosting me – much to my annoyance.”

“I annoy you then?”

“You’re avoiding the question ‘ _then’_.”,Severus replied finally looking at him.

“I am, but I can offer you something else you might find interesting, sir.”, he said softly.

Severus eyed him suspiciously.

“Well?”

“I’ve recently acquired rather interesting book of yours, professor.” the DADA professor looked dumbfounded. “’The Half-Blood Prince’?”

Snape glared at him.

“And how exactly did it come to be one of your possessions?”

“Slughorn handed it to me, since I didn’t have a book.”

Severus looked like he was trying to reach a decision on something.

“You weren’t intending to attend Potions classes this year, Potter?”

Harry narrowed his eyes sighing internally. Of course this was where a small talk with Severus would always lead – to him spilling out his guts.

“No, I didn’t intend on going to a NEWT’s class this year. Slughorn made it hard not to, though. Now I may actually have to become an auror.”

“You no longer wish to?”

“I don’t much fancy the mortality rate of the job.”, he admitted.

“A brave Gryffindor if I’ve ever seen one!”, Snape smirked.

“Would you have liked it better were I in Slytherin instead?”

Severus chuckled and Harry tried not to stare too openly. His laugh, however, was short-lived.

“Why would you want to give up potions, Potter? It was one of your better subjects.”

“Ah, don’t you get tired of acting interested in my boring, mediocre mind? I had my reasons, which are stupid, I assure you.”

“Go away then.”, Snape snapped suddenly and Harry was taken aback at the sudden change of tone.

“What?”

“You heard me. Go away.”

Harry looked uncertain for a moment looking at his professor but couldn’t make himself go even if it was the sensible thing to do. Why go the easy way though?

“Why would I want to attend Potions when you’re no longer teaching it?”

Snape stared at him transfixed.

“Is it really such a bizarre thing to say? I know you’re skilled in it. I had an idea it would turn out to be the way it is with Slughorn. I’m actually lucky I got my hands on your old school book because this year it is my best teacher in the subject.” Harry gathered himself up on trembling legs and stepped away from the table with the now cold potion. “Have a good day, sir.”

***

In the next week Harry monitored Snape’s day regularly from the Marauder’s map, though never got to actually confront him on one of his many walks through the corridors. It passed his mind that he never saw the professor actually sleep. He was there reading in the mornings when Harry woke up and prowling away in the evenings before he went to sleep. And as Harry was currently getting less than six hours of sleep a day, he couldn’t begin to imagine how tired Severus must feel.

It wasn’t until Sunday that Harry decided enough time had passed to try anew.

“What are you standing here for, Potter?”, he asked slowly not bothering to put away his reading.

“I saw you sitting here again and thought I should come and annoy you a bit.”

“Mission accomplished.”, Severus drawled turning the next page.

“It’s going to get cold soon.”, Harry stated as if he hadn’t heard the last sentence and pushed a small bottle in front of Snape. “It’s enhanced and tested.”

The DADA professor eyed it and turned back to his book.

“Good for you.”

“Why are you always being so stubborn?”, he said exasperated. “You look exhausted.”

“I don’t want it, Potter, now be a good boy and leave me alone.”, Severus replied coldly. As Harry didn’t move however, he turned his head to glare at him. “I can’t deal with you right now, Potter, go away.”

Harry dropped the bottle in his lap clenching his fists in frustration.

“I don’t exist for your convenience, Snape. Just take the stupid potion and get your sleeping pattern in check. Otherwise don’t expect to be left alone!”

Severus stared at him blankly and stood up, the potion falling in the grass.

“Just what gave you the idea you could speak to me in such manner, Potter?”

“Your newfound childishness did. Why do you insist to be by yourself when it’s obvious you get more and more anxious with every passing day? If my company is not suitable then fine, I don’t care. But let somebody actually help you!”

“I AM FINE POTTER!”, he yelled and luckily there was no one to hear him.

“YES I CAN SEE THAT!”, Harry leveled out.

“Damn you, Potter, why can’t you just go away?” Severus hissed.

“Because I’m foolish enough to care.”

The professor covered his face with a hand closing his eyes and breathing in.

“Fine.”, he muttered a moment later and retrieved the bottle. 

Harry nodded and left.

***

On the next day in DADA class Snape looked a bit better, though he was far from his normal self. He actually looked a bit like he did last year – absentminded, thoughtful and totally distracted but not so much tired anymore.

Before Harry went out after the class ended, Snape caught up with him.

“A word, Potter.”

He nodded and waited for the others to disappear behind the door.

“I didn’t mean to shout at you – yesterday.”

Harry blinked, surprised at this new development.

“Yeah, well, I annoyed the hell out of you, it was only natural.”, he smiled.

Severus took out an empty phial and pushed it forward on the wooden desktop.

“It’s custom-made, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I tinkered it a bit to personalize it. ”, Harry admitted, suddenly very interested in his shoes.

“You should think about getting a mastery in Potions.”, Snape ground out and it sounded much like an insult.

“You alright, sir?” The professor glared at him so Harry backtracked. “I’ll be late for my next class.”

***

“Interested in a swap?”

If Harry hadn’t lifted his head and saw him, he wouldn’t have believed that Severus Snape had said that.

Harry had come to this bench on Saturday due more to his already formed pattern than to the continued desire to monitor the professor’s behavior but he hadn’t expected an encounter as he was determined to keep to his word and heave him be for now.

He lifted his book so Severus could read the cover. It was his advanced healing charms study book.

“If you’re interested, I don’t mind.”

He handed Snape his text, taking in turn his. The older man got the book and retired to his usual spot under the tree. Harry looked at the book and frowned.

***

A few hours have passed before Harry gave up on reading as the sunlight got dim so he went down the hill.

Snape had been reading an old muggle philosophical book on the metaphysics of afterlife which sent Harry on bizarre planes of thought.

He sat beside him and leaned his head back on the tree.

“I wish I could help – in any way possible.” He said softly after a moment.

Snape snorted, his face hidden by his hair.

“You’ve already done enough.”

“Have I?”, Harry asked thoughtful. “I don’t see how it mattered. I feel like a pawn, tossed left and right by some unknowable fate.”

“Pawns can become queens, Potter, while knights can only do so much.”

“Knights can’t change colors though. You’re not even on the board.”, Harry smiled.

“No. I’ve never been on the board.

“What you’re doing…I couldn’t in a million lifetimes manage to comprehend, much less emulate.”

“And you shouldn’t.”

“Nobody should.” Harry uttered turning his gaze down to the lake. “Our victory will come, I believe it in my bones, but it will come at a great cost. You know, I’ve been thinking, so far we have been playing at war, like small children play house. And I feel that the time when this changes, becomes real – full blown, is looming like a shadow more and more every single day. Inevitable and ugly.”

Severus sighed, staying silent for a moment beside Harry.

“It has been real enough.”

“Yes but,” Harry turned to look at him earnestly “We have this.” He waved his hand to indicate the surroundings. “This rock solid home away from home. We have each other as a community. We will be uprooted when it gets real. Every single one of us.”

“Have you shared these thoughts with Dumbledore?”

“No, I couldn’t do that. I share them with you.”

“Not wise, Potter. I wouldn’t rely on one such as myself to provide reassurance.”

Harry sighed deeply.

“What does that even mean? Such as yourself? I admire you and I trust you with my life. I don’t expect reassurance. I don’t expect anything from you. You have done too much already. I simply don’t wish to burden others with my cynicism.”

“And yet you choose to ‘burden' me.”

“Your soul is stained.” Said Harry and he saw immediately that Severus was taken aback by the word. “And so is mine. I hoped you’d understand what I meant better than others.”

“You are too young to speak such things. You haven’t done anything impure, misguided as you might be.”

Harry smiled sadly.

“Please do not presume to know.”

“I know you’re hiding something. Knowledge, power, I’m not blind, Potter. But your actions have always been honorable.” Harry shook his head minutely. “What you’re hiding.” Said Severus in realization.

“What I’m hiding.”, Harry consented turning his gaze far away once more. “I wish I could share it with you. Lest to say, I’m more like you than you imagine in one very crucial and ugly aspect.”, he said, thinking of how they both held true allegiance to one person alone. And even if he’d never lifted a hand to kill another person, unlike Severus, he’d caused too many deaths by inaction.

“Why?”, Snape said suddenly angry, grabbing the front of his ropes and propelling him up. “Why are you saying this to me of all people? Why do you care for me at all? Answer me, Potter, what is this game you’re playing?”

Harry didn’t shirk the touch as Severus shook him by the shoulder, borderline painful as it was.

“You matter to me, Severus”, He felt the involuntary squeeze on his shoulder at the use of his name. “I’ve told you before, I wouldn’t be here now in this place, in this situation, if it wasn’t for you. Both your mistakes and your protection have marred my life to make it what it is now. I’m not playing games with you. I wouldn’t judge you for what you have done, or for whatever you choose to do.”

Harry clapped the hand on his shoulder once gently and let it drop from him, already missing the touch. They have rarely been this close before and they probably wouldn’t again, he knew.

He felt out of place in the still silence that fell over them.

“I will come to betray it – this trust of yours. You will regret it. Sooner or later.” Snape spat.

“You’re wrong. It is not a choice I made somewhere along the way. You have it. You will not betray it. You can’t, it’s unconditional.”

“Nothing is unconditional.”

“Nothing you’ve known perhaps. You will come to test it. As if you haven’t tested it before. I know you can hurt me. It doesn’t change anything.”

Harry could feel Snape’s uneasiness and wished he had the right words to lighten the atmosphere.

“I know you don’t understand. You don’t have to. I simply wanted you to see that I will be on your side. Always.”

“You will change your mind.” He said, dismissive.

“Believe what you wish. I don’t have different words to tell you this. It’s too hard to trust me, I’m too young to know better. You’ve known me long enough. Think if you don’t allow yourself to admit that you’ve already felt it.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

Harry looked at him pained expression showing plainly on his face.

“It’s for you. You and me, we’ve had no life, no family, no love. Our days pass with purpose, goals far bigger than us. Not I, not anybody can understand what you’re going through. So, even if you hate me, even if you can’t stand my presence, I want you to know that though it may not be the right person, somebody can always be trusted to be on your side. I want you to have this certainty, even if you don’t want it.”

Snape’s unmoving gaze made Harry feel pinned like a specimen, the tension thick and palpable in the ensuing silence. Finally, the man nodded stiffly and moved away so briskly that it looked like he had escaped more so than left.

Harry let the unease fill him as he sank down and into himself next to the tree.

He had said too much. He wouldn’t blame Snape if the man was disgusted by him.

Dignity had never been a part of their interaction and Harry felt he had no pride left to shed. 

***

Soon it became apparent that as could be expected, Snape grew more and more distant, practically avoiding Harry altogether. It made him feel completely exposed and promptly rejected but Harry was dead set on giving Severus his space respectfully. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself in his place either. It still hurt that he could not provide him with any form of support, that he didn’t even have the power to make him smile. Somewhere in a corner of his mind he wished there could be another person, more suitable for Severus, one which the professor would allow in his intense intimacy.

It didn’t help that Harry was almost constantly dizzy with thoughts of the Potions Master. In the brief span of a few minutes he had experienced so much he had never expected to even glimpse from a distance with Severus’s cold demeanor. He could now cast back to the firm hand on his shoulder, could feel the touch of the skin under his palm, could revisit their only intimate conversation where he was not merely a pupil but a person.

It was too addictive and too impossible.

***

It wasn’t until the start of December that he encountered the DADA professor outside of the classroom. It was on one of the now many nights in which Harry had decided it would be much more productive to study than try feigning sleep and took his cloak and texts to an unused classroom on the seventh floor. This night, however, he could spent only a couple of hours there reading undisturbed.

“What’s the meaning of this, Potter?”, came the silky familiar voice filling up the air and reverberating from the very walls.

Startled, Harry dropped his book and turned around.

“I’m reading – sir.”, he managed though quite sure by the tone of voice that no words would get him out of punishment’s way.

“Prowling the castle after curfew is strictly forbidden, come with me.”

The younger man gathered his things and exited the room quickly.

Harry had pretty much forgotten what it felt like to have Severus’ attention on him. This man had a way of intimidating which seemed to seep naturally. He didn’t dare looking up to read Snape’s expression, nor object to the sudden interruption of his late night studies. Still, he couldn’t withstand the dead silence of the empty castle.

“Where are you taking me now?”

“Try not adding any more negative points to yourself and your house with insolent questions, Potter.”, was all Snape chose to say, though their destination became quite clear once taking a turn to the staircase.

Harry was admittedly perplexed by this shift in attitude. Sure, the avoidance he could understand clearly. But really, he had went and poured out his innermost thoughts to Snape and he could not believe that all this did was provoke coldness and distant disdain.

“Aren’t you going to tell me at least how many points I have lost?”, Harry breathed out just loud enough for Snape to hear him.

“Let’s keep it a surprise shall we,” Severus answered in silky tones. “It suffices to say you will be spending the next week’s evenings in the company of Filch.”

“Still avoiding me, I see.”, he huffed despite himself, knowing how spiteful it must sound.

“I’d suggest you try to swallow this cheek of yours, Potter, and stop breaking the rules to fulfill your own selfish desires. Now get inside and stay there. I have better things to do than escorting you back.”

Harry narrowed his eyes his nostrils flaring in the effort not to show his anger verbally. He entered the common room instead as soon as Severus had finished his little berating and slouched in the nearest chair taking a deep breath. What had he really expected from this man? He could trust no one and yet somewhere deep inside Harry had hoped that he might be an exception. Maybe when Snape couldn’t fathom the reason for Harry’s behavior, the professor has decided that he was trying to manipulate him. Or maybe he thought him so pathetic that he wanted to snip this sliver of closeness in the bud. Let him down brutally. It seemed like a Snape thing to do.

Harry pondered their interaction for far too long until he reached the conclusion that he had made an irreversible detour from his plan.

It seemed now as though they were back on square one, then perhaps Harry had done even worse since Snape didn’t seem to hate him now so much as despise him.

He was nevertheless set on trying again and pulling through to his goal. He had to remind himself sternly that his goal was not to have a warm relationship with Severus, but to prevent his death and thus give him the opportunity of an agenda free life. It was reward enough to know that the man could still get what he deserved, no matter the form his happiness would take.

***

Next week Harry didn’t see much of Severus except in classes but he saw rather too much of Argus Filch to balance things out. As he hadn’t had quite that many detentions with him for this timeline, he didn’t mind being subjected to disgusting manual labor for seven evenings only.

***

As Harry did his best to ignore Snape ignoring him, the next time they actually spoke to each other was on Slughorn’s Christmas party.

**_ “But I don’t think I’ve ever known such a natural at Potions!” said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. “Instinctive, you know — like his mother! I’ve only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill — why even Severus —”  _ **

**_ Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.  _ **

**_ “Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!” hiccupped Slughorn happily. “I was just talking about Harry’s exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!”  _ **

Harry glanced briefly towards Severus and then around, obvious in his attempt to find an escape. He knew what was about to happen, knew this conversation wasn’t meant to be a long one and yet being this close to the DADA professor after so much effort put in avoiding him made Harry feel much like prey.

**_ Trapped, with Slughorn’s arm around his shoulders, Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, his black eyes narrowed _ ** ** yet said nothing to encourage Slughorn’s banter _._ **

**_ “You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death — never had a –student produce finer on a first attempt, I don’t think even you, Severus —”  _ **

**_ “Really?” said Snape quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet. _ ** **** Heavoided the black eyes in favor of Slughorn.

**_ “Remind me what other subjects you’re taking, Harry?” asked Slughorn.  _ **

**_ “Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology…”  _ **

**_ “All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror,” said Snape with the faintest sneer. _ ** ****

“And incidentally, a mediwizard.” Harry replied just loud enough for the words to reach Severus whose face didn’t betray any hint of surprise.

Next Draco was dragged in by Filch, and when Severus exited with him bare moments later, Harry followed. He didn’t need to listen to the door, he already knew everything that was being said. The insolent fool was insisting on proving himself. Meanwhile, Harry imagined, Dumbledore insisted on not being forced to die before it was necessary.

After Draco had stormed by him, n ot even thinking about letting it pass, Harry entered the classroom, taking his cloak off. He didn’t wait to be noticed or shouted at for that matter. He was by now sick and tired of these games.

“Really, professor, this was unusually stupid of you.”, he stated inclining his back to the door and blocking the way out. Even as he did so, he realized he was mirroring the conversation he had just listened to.

Snape scowled at him baring his teeth.

“How much did you hear, Potter?”, he hissed in a low voice.

Harry crossed his arms and legs calmly.

“Enough. And so could have any passer-by.”

“If you dare –“

“You’ll do what exactly… _sir_? Report me to someone, give me detention – what? Or should I be readying myself for an unforgivable curse right now?” Snape paled and backed away a step almost it seemed involuntarily. Harry sighed and narrowed his eyes despite himself. “This is simply- idiotic.”, he stated and turned to leave but he made it only so far before Seveus grabbed him and turned him around.

“Potter, what you think you –“

“Spare me the small talk, will you? You’re the idiot here, not I.”, he replied trying his best to get away and failing to move at all.

“You will keep this to yourself then?”

“Are you afraid?”, Harry muttered, managing to smirk while still stubbornly trying to move, which only made Snape’s grasp of him tighter. “Do you imagine I’d like seeing you dead? Let go of me.”

He was too close and it was too much. He could feel Snape’s breath on his eyelids and cheeks and knew he wouldn’t be able to endure eye contact for much longer as it was. This man had too much influence on his emotions. He had to get away before Snape noticed.

“Who’s afraid now, Potter?”, Snape sneered seemingly delighted of the opportunity to mortify Harry.

“Afraid? That you’re going to glare me dead?” Harry spat with some difficulty.“I’m sick and tired of acting decent only to get threatened and shouted at in the end, you know. You can’t make the simple distinction between enemies and allies and I am quite frankly disgusted by this. What do I have to do for you to get it at last? I am on your damn side! Why though, I no longer have an idea. Can you imagine how much easier it would have been for me to simply decide to hate you and use every opportunity to try exposing you as the git you are? But no, I get hissed, shouted at, or insulted; I get jars thrown my way, get threatened and pushed to a corner here and there – I obviously crave this!” Snape’s expression was stony as he stared at him. “For the last time, get off of me you ungrateful jerk!”

This time, when he tried, Harry discovered he could actually move and in pushing Snape out of his way, he finally managed to get out.

***

Once outside, Harry dropped to his knees panting and trying to calm down. He was still in this position when Severus chose to emerge. It was making him sick, all of this. Snape, the timeline, his task and his feelings most of all. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to wish truthfully to be back where he started with Severus dead and him – lost in the nightmares.

“Are you alright?”, Severus asked softly and Harry huffed.

“You are the most irksome man I have ever met… What was your question?”

Severus snorted and leaned down to gather his arms in a strong grip.

“It would seem you overexerted yourself.”, he said and lifted him up.

“Nah, I’m just tired of this.”, Harry replied smiling infinitesimally. 

“Put your cloak on and follow me.”

Begrudgingly, Harry did as he was told.

***

As soon as they started descending the stairs below the ground level, Harry gathered they were going to Snape’s office. Once they passed said office though, no consequent guess came along.

Severus walked swiftly through several shortcuts so Harry had to run to catch up before they closed. Finally, the DADA professor stopped before a tapestry of a snake he’d never seen before. Snape whispered the password and the snake sprang to life, swinging the hidden door open. Harry entered and looked around in the semi-darkness, while Severus, preceding him, ventured forward to the end of the corridor and through the door. Soon the darkness receded and Harry could see further ahead enough to notice the other door. Snape had obviously lit the fire in the other room but there was no other light in the room. He stepped forward cautiously and once at the threshold, looked around. It was a small living room with two burgundy armchairs and a small table in the middle while up along the bare stone a long set of shelves filled with books slithered from one wall to the other, leaving open space enough for the only two doors the room had – the one Harry was resting a hand on, and what could only be a bedroom. Snape gestured him to one of the armchairs.

Suddenly nervous, he sat down, watching his professor do the same.

“Anything to drink?”, Severus asked, seeming quite at ease.

Harry wasn’t surprised. Just as in the classroom and his office, here again Snape looked to be in a natural habitat. Darkness was as much a part of the surroundings as it was of the man in front of him. Whether he could name this particular gloom poetic or instead depressing was a matter of a whole new line of thoughts.

“Water’s fine.”, Harry answered and it was met with a snort. It seemed almost uncanny the way he provoked their emergence so frequently. Almost as if the professor was making fun of him.

“How old are you now, Potter?”, yes definitely mocking him.

“I’m – supposed to be sixteen.”, another snort. If he only knew the truth to this statement, he wouldn’t be having so much fun, Harry thought scathingly.

“Let us say, for the purposes of tonight’s aftermath, that you are seventeen, shall we?”

Snape tapped at the table with the tip of his wand and two identical glasses appeared. The professor inclined his head before drinking but as Harry lifted his glass, he felt strange. Rather like he was having a very mild gut feeling of the sort he’d come to associate with fate. He put the glass back down and looked up at the man.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”, Snape asked calmly.

“Is it Veritaserum?”

They regarded at each other for a long moment before Severus waved a hand and their glasses disappeared only to be replaced with new ones. Harry stared at the table confused.

“I can only imagine your frequent visitors are delighted by the warm welcome.”, he ventured with a small sneer on his mouth.

“It is not – a common occurrence.” Snape said through gritted teeth.

“I should certainly hope so.”

“Nevertheless, you recognized it. How when I myself couldn’t?”

“Why should I tell you?”, Harry retorted at once. “So you can be more successful next time?”

“Don’t be daft –“

Harry sipped his drink this time and this turned out to be a mistake of sorts because the alcohol served to almost immediately sweep him back to times of the past. It was not a question of merely one or two evenings sitting alone on the couch in his apartment, drinking and trying his best to discourage any rational thought stubborn enough to try to surface. It wasn’t a good memory and still he felt nostalgic now, enough to stop listening to Severus.

“What did you say?”, Harry blinked fast leaving the glass back on the table.

“Would you care to elaborate, Potter? It would seem you are developing a habit of spacing out when you need to pay attention. Is it brain damage?”

Harry scowled indignantly.

“No. It is not brain damage and I already told you enough. It’s not something I have control over, thank you very much.”

“Then develop control over it. I’m loath to imagine you in close range with the Dark Lord with this tendency of yours.”

Harry laughed taking his glass again.

“The Dark Lord has his ways of keeping my attention, I am sure.”

“As does – Miss Weasley no doubt.”

Harry choked in the middle of drinking but somehow managed to keep his drink inside the glass.

“You have a vivid imagination.”

“If you admire it that much, you could supply it.”

Harry cleared his throat smiling up at Snape.

“Is this really what you want to talk about?”

“I admit that I am…intrigued.”

“That may be as well, still I wouldn’t want to be held responsible for another phase of insomnia. The concoction is rather tricky to make and Slughorn doesn’t like me this much.”

“Nothing short of you professing your undying love for Minerva McGonagall can take me off balance.”, Snape stated but Harry was far from taking the bait.

“It is way beyond even an imagination as vivid as yours.”, he teased unashamedly. “I could tell you of course, but I’ll have to Obliviate you for your own good afterwards.”

“We shall see.”

“No we won’t. I told you plainly already, and you should know this yourself. I cannot allow myself such indulgent thoughts right now. Contrary to what you may think, I’m not entirely self-centered.”

“To be infatuated does not purport being self-absorbed.”

“Yes well, I’m not infatuated.”, Harry replied quietly.

“Ah, just a passing fancy, then.”

Harry smiled sadly, put his glass down and leaned in to look at Snape.

“Every passing moment is a thought of that one person, and every thought is pure sweet agony. Every touch we have shared, every word, every glance are burnt inside my mind. Awake or dreaming, I yearn to be able to reach, to hold, caress, protect…even just a fleeting touch if it may be welcome, would be enough. So no, I’m not infatuated.”, he finished bitterly.

Severus stood up smoothly and exited the room. A moment later he returned, a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He made no offer but extracted one and slowly inhaled lighting it up.

_ I never knew you smoked,  _ Harry thought. _There’s so much I don’t know about you, still so much to find out._ He wanted to study this man meticulously, every little detail would serve to fascinate, he was sure. Were he given the chance, he’d gladly spend his whole life at the task.

“All the more reason to pursue it.” Severus inhaled once more, eyes closed, returning Harry to the subject at hand.

Potter shook his head minutely.

“To what end? Self-destruction? Or worse? I think not. It is one-sided. Completely out of reach.”

“Have you broached the subject at all?”

Harry laughed and sipped from his glass.

“I have not. Some things you just know.” Severus opened his mouth but Harry interrupted. “And even if it was reciprocated – what would happen once the war starts in earnest? I would have to go, you realize, leave. I wouldn’t, maybe even couldn’t be able to do this. I told you – we are the same – men with no life but with clear all consuming duty. One must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.” He sighed and sipped more. “You’ve avoided me for weeks. Why?”

Snape reclined in his chair clearly uncomfortable with the abrupt change of subject.

“No, I apologize”, Harry continued briskly. “You don’t need to explain. You don’t trust easily. Or if we’re to be honest, not at all. You’ve seen I care for you, so you have confirmed for yourself that it’s true. But you still can’t analyze it to your satisfaction. You can’t pick apart my motive, my agenda as you say. And you hate to be vulnerable – understandable really, given your history. So you keep me at a distance.” Harry sipped from his drink and continued. “That’s one possibility. The other is not so pretty because in it you know I care about you, but you wish I would not, that I’d just go away and stop annoying you with my presence. So which is it?”

Snape chose this moment to stand up and go to the other side of the room in order to pour more whiskey into his glass shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit room.

“You have it all figured out, don’t you Potter. I am either a poor lonely sucker or a monster that doesn’t appreciate others who only want to help. It’s very neat, I’ll admit.”

“That is not what I said at all –“

“You are full of it. Oh, you believe yourself, I’m sure but trust me, when push comes to shove you’ll make a u-turn faster than I can blink.” Snape spat. “I am nobody to you. Don’t delude yourself into thinking otherwise.”

“Yes, Severus, like all the u-turns I have already done.” It was Harry’s turn to spit.

“I haven’t given you any reason!”

Harry laughed.

“You know I wish you were a bit younger – so that for once we could actually speak eye-to-eye.”

“What?” Snape turned incredulous.

“You’re being condescending. I’ll explain if you sit down.” He patiently waited until Severus conceded and returned to the table. “Let me tell you a story and see if it rings a bell. There once was a young boy who was a wizard. A half-blood, like me. His father was a muggle and his mother a witch. His mother fell in love in his father in spite of the disapproval of her pureblood family but when she got pregnant, they couldn’t do much. But not all was well. Maybe he felt less of a man, he might have felt threatened, or maybe he was even suspicious that she tricked him into marriage. So the man drank his troubles away while the woman raised her boy to her family standards, even though she could no longer go back to them, even though they were deep in poverty, she raised him as a pureblood would.” Severus was uncharacteristically quiet so Harry plowed on not daring to look at him, “Then the boy met a girl – another magical child just like him – his first…friend. She was his only sunny moment until finally his dream of escaping his home came true and he went to Hogwarts. The two worlds then collided for the boy. He was taught a certain way, certain things were important. But those same standards didn’t hold against his first and best friend. So they grew apart. Gradually at first, then rapidly, until he was faced with the fact that he had lost her forever. Two different worlds. He felt jealous, persecuted, bullied – once even his life was at risk. The only thing that made sense was a pureblood supremacy gang that seemed not only to accept him but also to appreciate the talents which have thus far been frowned upon by others. It was a first family for the boy. But it was a lie, wasn’t it? The boy ended up doing unspeakable things he’d come to condemn, but not until he did the ultimate betrayal to himself – he sent word about a prophecy-“ the sound of shattered glass made Harry stop speaking and look at Snape.“Are you okay –sir?”

Severus was staring unseeing and unmoving the glass having slipped through his fingers throughout Harry’s story.

“How…”

“Sybil Trellawney. In third year.” He said softly.

“And you knew? All this time you have known?”

Harry knew he had gone too far when he saw Severus’ hand shaking.

“I am sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Upset? I’m not upset, I’m just – surprised.”

“I’ve known it all along but it doesn’t matter. It has never mattered.”

“How could it not matter, Potter, are you a complete imbecile?”

“Nothing you have done or decide to do could change my opinion of you. Nor my admiration. You knew it was a mistake. But you, delivering the prophecy to the Dark Lord is what has defined me as a person even before I could walk. And it is certainly one of the best things that have happened to the wizarding world. Without it, he may never have fallen. And this made you realize what you’d become. So, in retrospect, it was a good thing.”

Snape laughed humorlessly.

“You have made some very pretty excuses for me. I was a selfish child. Even when I came to Dumbledore I begged him to save Lilly. Not you, not your father – my only thought was for her. I’ve begged the Dark Lord to spare her as well.”

“Yes, Severus, and while anyone else might have been there to overhear it and share it, only you could have made what happened possible. If the Dark Lord had killed my mother instantly, she would never have been able to cast her protection to me. And yes, you were selfish; you were a child who felt wronged and unappreciated by the whole world. You did slip a vast amount down the abyss that is Voldemort, but Severus, you have been paying for these mistakes for too long. I cannot judge that person because they don’t exist anymore. And this person that you are now, the one I have seen so many times bear the responsibility of the ugliest tasks, the one who felt responsible for protecting me even though to him I must have seemed a miniature version of the person he hated the most, I trust this person implicitly.”

“I will disappoint you, Potter.”

Harry shook his head.

“In five years you’ve saved my life five times, do you realize that? And inevitably, before the year is over, you will do so for a sixth.”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to die as often as this.”

Harry laughed openly, relieved of the side-track.

“Yes, well, me too if it counts. But thank you, nevertheless. You ask me of my agenda. I just wish, when this is all over, to see you free and happy. I do owe you much more than that.”

“And when you see this new person you’re talking about do unspeakable things? What if my choices pull me to the other side again?”

Harry sighed. Even though he knew this was never going to happen, Severus seemed to need to hear something more so he chose his words carefully.

“A person who has buried the love of his life and then proceeded to bury his heart and soul with her, who has lived by her will for almost two decades even though she has never been his to love and protect, is worth forgiving every time in my book. To me, you are a formidable man driven by pain, whom I wouldn’t want to meet in a battle, so if the light side betrays you to the extent that you’d feel the need to switch back to a murderous lunatic, they’d be utter fools and it would be their loss. I am on your side, whichever side you deem worthy to choose.”

“You put way too much trust in me, you foolish boy.” Severus said shakily. Harry was startled to see him so disconcerted but then again, he has never been good with words and explanations.

“My trust in you should never be a burden, please don’t take it like this.”

“Your mother…I used to think that I loved her more than anything. I don’t know that I have. I was selfish, I was self-obsessed and self-important. I could have chosen her but I chose the Dark Lord instead.”

“If not love, then what was it?”

“Affection, deep connection, obsession on my part. I’m not certain. I wanted to have her for myself much more than I wanted her happy.”

“Perhaps you have come to know the difference in time.”

“Yes.” Snape confirmed and Harry felt a bittersweet pang thunder inside him. “Regardless, it had been a stronger bond than any other I’ve had.”

“I do wish that this changes for you. You deserve to feel loved and appreciated.”

“I don’t know that it will. Perhaps not in this lifetime.”

“You’ll get through. And I’ll be right by your side, annoying you and trying to help.” Harry smiled.

“Silly child…” Snape smiled in return. “I trust that you would but it may not be enough.”

Severus sounded so profoundly saddened that Harry felt his throat constrict in sympathy.

“I know. My worst fear is that I’ll be unable to protect those whom I love.”

Snape seemed startled from his reverie. He reclined in the armchair and once again lifted his drink to his mouth.

“And how about the person you’re in love with? Who will protect her if you’re away?”

Harry glanced briefly at him and then back to his glass.

“He is very strong and capable. I’m sure that with a little help at the right time, everything will be okay.”

Harry could feel Severus’ gaze rest on him for what felt like an eternity.

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have presumed.”, he spoke softly at last.

“It’s alright. It came as a surprise for me as well.” He half-smiled.

“I understand why you don’t want to speak about it.”

“I don’t dare say a word about how I feel, lest he realizes. I’m pathetic.”

Harry covered his face with his hands and rubbed to erase any trace of moisture left.

“Not pathetic, no. You are by far wiser than I was at your age.”

“With all due respect, that doesn’t really say much.” Harry joked and he was pleased to see a chuckle escape Severus.

“You should go back, it’s past midnight.”

Harry stood up along with him, tired and compliant to the reasonable pointer.

“What you saw tonight –“

“Don’t worry, I know what I saw and heard. I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you.”

***

Severus escorted him to the tower in silence. No doubt they had said so much that evening that there were no words left to share, Harry thought.

Once inside the common room he felt restless. Without meaning to, he replayed the whole evening over and over in his head. Had he shared too much? Would Severus know, would he guess? Oh Merlin, it was true he’d shed his dignity completely already, and still the thought that he might see rejection and pity in those black eyes mortified him. He had been honest when he’d said he only wanted him happy, finding someone, sharing a life. Harry had long passed accepting his desire as irrelevant and impossible. This was not about him but only about this hateful, beautiful man, this intricate creature wronged by himself and random circumstances. And even so, if he were allowed to share just one intimate glimpse just one amiable touch with this man, he’d turn heaven and earth. Must his heart’s desire be so utterly selfish even in its generosity, he mused. He closed his eyes and felt a pang remembering vividly the feel of warm skin on his palm. _He is air and salt and sustenance. He is the blood in my veins and the muscle pumping it. A limb that I’m missing and only now realizing I need it to function. God I miss him already, I need him to breathe._

***

Just like that, their last conversation seemed to hold no impact. In the next two months nothing of real significance happened at all. Of course there was the regular deal of Ron and Hermione not speaking to each other, making Harry again vary between them, like the first time wasn’t enough. Then there were the apparition lessons, the memory he received the task to procure and many talks about Malfoy. Not a hint of interesting news for Harry, which of course meant there was no new development with Severus. That’s not to say they didn’t talk to each other occasionally. But Snape rather like Slughorn seemed to again have decided it would be for the best to avoid Harry.

***

It was one evening late in February, one of the three Harry had chosen to stroll round in the grounds when he saw two familiar figures walking in the distance close to the Forbidden forest. As this was the instant he was actually waiting for, with Snape refusing to comply with Dumbledore’s plan, Harry chose to move just close enough to monitor them and when he saw the professor turn to go back to the castle, he increased his pace to catch up.

Snape turned around at the slightest sound of footsteps and seeing Harry, he frowned.

“What are you –“ he began in what was obviously an attempt to deduct points.

“You can’t really back out now, can you?”, Harry interrupted him calmly.

Snape stared at him for what seemed a century but could only have been a moment devoted to the futile effort of Legilimency.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter.”, he said finally looking away. Harry thought for a moment of the absurd notion that Severus might be afraid he’d try the same in turn. Even if he could…but then it was possible he would.

“Perhaps I don’t. But I know that by choosing this you effectively choose to die.”, he ventured calculating in his mind what part of the whole picture was supposed to be available to him. Apparently Snape was sufficiently distracted for he didn’t notice this conclusion should have been completely unfounded given Harry’s data.

The professor fell silent again for a second this time not looking at Harry but instead directing his gaze to the Forbidden forest and the spot where he was only a couple of minutes ago. Harry too looked for any signs of Dumbledore approaching, even though he felt sure they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“There are things worse than death.”, said Severus finally, his voice almost a whisper, eyes wistful and distant. He seemed not to notice he was giving too much away for the usual effort to make his face blank again didn’t follow.

“Yes. Like watching those you care about die in front of you.”, replied Harry gazing at him. What wouldn’t he give to see this face always expressing feelings in this natural sort of way and to see the spark blaze in the detached, cold and almost lifeless eyes.

“What –“, Severus turned his head towards Harry in a slashing motion, narrowing his eyes almost to slits. 

“I wouldn’t be too fond of seeing you dead, sir.”, he said simply tilting his head to the side for good measure of performance while thinking privately that he had to leave this conversation before he made Severus too angry.

But it was obvious Harry had thought of this too late, because the professor grew rigid after hearing the words, suspicion reeking of his stance and his searching eyes.

“What? You don’t think I’m honest? Suit yourself, sir.”, he said and hurried to the castle. There was something about the look Severus had given him that unnerved him. This hadn’t happened for a very long time.

***

In the next couple of days Harry didn’t have the chance to see more than a glimpse of Snape with everything going on with Ron being poisoned and consequently the need for his acting skills to improve. He had to admit he faked apprehension rather too poorly. Of course no one noticed this in the commotion but still Hermione had given him an odd look while Hagrid was telling them about what he had overheard a couple of nights ago between Severus and Dumbledore.

This aside, Harry used the lonely hours of the evening to rethink his conversation with Severus and reached the conclusion that an apology was due. After all he had behaved a bit arrogantly taking into account he was practically criticizing Snape’s decisions on his own life. The fact that Harry knew Snape wouldn’t really choose to forgo his life out of stubbornness had nothing to do with it. It was obvious the professor wasn’t taking well his liabilities and the situation was getting even worse as time passed. True, he didn’t wander sleeplessly round the corridors anymore, nor was he distracted during class, but something told Harry this was nothing more than bottling up his emotions and he could only wonder when Severus would finally explode.

***

On the next day right after lunch Harry went down to the dungeons seeing Snape was in his study alone and pacing. He knocked and heard a stiff “Enter.”

Harry stepped awkwardly inside frowning a bit at his own nervousness. He had no reason to be anxious, after all he’d been here often enough and even more often apologizing to Severus.

“Excuse me, sir. I came to – well, apologize about what I said to you.” Snape frowned and Harry hastened to continue before the imminent interruption. “I had no right to force my opinion on you the way I did. I hope you understand this. I just wanted to help…”

“You want to help me, Potter?”, Severus yelled suddenly, his voice making Harry shudder with mixed feelings. “Then leave me alone!”, he continued standing up, his hands squeezed tightly in fists, his expression deranged. “Stop coming here as if you have an invitation extended to your continual presence and inept attempts at conversation! And most of all, stop imagining your constant company is anything more than infernal annoyance on my part! I have – been tolerant with your stupidity because of the respect I feel for your mother’s memory but it is enough. I can no longer put up with you. In fact, I would be glad to never have to see your face again.”

Harry stared blankly ahead, not really seeing Severus at all, the words ringing in his ears. He felt petrified, not able to move a muscle even as a few tears decided to betray him and trickle down his sides. So this was how Snape truly felt – and at long last he had decided to come out and say it loud and clear so there would be no prolonged confusion. And how foolish Harry was to think, to hope, to continue with his efforts to be there, to help in any way he was capable of. How foolish it all seemed when he knew at last the only thing he could do to help Severus was to stop – annoying him. Snape had been tolerant, it was true. But it was also true he couldn’t stand Harry. It was so obvious now… it hurt to realize how many mistakes he had made along with the wrong assumptions.

“As you don’t seem to have any self respect left, I must ask you again. Leave. Now.”, Severus said coldly.

***

It was the damn hardest day of his life afterwards. Disgusted though he was with this weakness, no matter how hard he tried to reason with his treacherous heart, it was futile. He felt as though he had fallen apart, shattered into pieces along with his entire world. It was irrational and on top of it, illogical, of course. It was not as though he had failed. He could still save Severus’ life, he didn’t need his permission to do this and he certainly didn’t need Snape to like him. Still, the shredding of all hope proved to be too much to handle. Somewhere in his mind he was angry with Severus. Harry had, had he not, come eight years back in time for this man – a feat he couldn’t be able to pull through without the need to save this man being his deepest heart’s desire. It was ungrateful of Snape, Harry felt, to say such harsh words to him, even if he believed them to be true. But he didn’t know Harry had come back, all he must have known were Harry’s dubious words, and his plea to trust him. Why would Snape even consider the possibility Harry might be valuable in any way. Or that his life might one day depend on him. All Snape knew was that it was because of him it was all happening. And yes, it was because of Harry that Snape had to kill Dumbledore, his confidant, the only one who knew who Snape really was, what he had done, and how he felt. It was only because he had to keep his cover that he had to do it. And he had to keep his cover so he would be able to continue protecting Harry from within the enemy’s ranks.

It was utter foolishness on Harry’s part that he ever hoped Snape might stop hating him along the way if he was honest and insisted enough. Even James Potter didn’t matter when it came to this.

***

Later the same day Harry was so fed up with his storming emotions, he went out in the grounds and started to run. With no destination planned and the only thought to escape from his heartbreak he continued to run until he fell onto the ground completely exhausted.

In the end he had decided again all of this didn’t matter in the least. He had already given up one-third of his life to the cause, there was no turning back. He only hoped he could be the better man, could be good enough to strive for what was best for Snape and put his petty emotions aside. After all, if what he felt for Severus was genuine, wasn’t it only natural to wish for him to be happy above all? He certainly wished for him to live, be it far from him. But the thought of saving him and never seeing him again was keeping the lump in his throat as sore as ever.

***

In the next few weeks Harry adopted a new attitude, the only one he could think of actually. Mainly, he avoided Snape and when he couldn’t, he drew back to his old tendency of staring at innocent objects and pretending he wasn’t there. Admittedly this was harder than before as Harry was used by now to talking with his professor. He missed Severus even if he mentally kicked himself every time he thought of this. His days were quite empty now as the only things that happened were old and quite trivial.

***

**_ “Late again, Potter,” said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit classroom. “Ten points from Gryfrindor.” _ ** ****

Harry as it was usual these days, didn’t show he even registered the words, but sat down next to Ron, extracted his book and essay and stared down at it. 

**_ “Before we start, I want your dementor essays,” said Snape, waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk. “And I hope for your sakes they are better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if you will all open your books to page — what is it, Mr. Finnigan?”  _ **

And sure enough mere moments after Seamus had asked his question, Harry felt a nudge, fate telling him to speak.

**_ “I thought Snape and Mundungus were on the same side,” muttered Harry to Ron and Hermione. “Shouldn’t he be upset Mundungus has been arrest —” _ **

**_ “But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject,” said Snape, pointing suddenly at the back of the room, his black eyes fixed on Harry. “Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost.”  _ **

**_ The whole class looked around at Harry _ ** _ , _ who closed his eyes sighing deeply. He wouldn’t let Snape get to him, he couldn’t give him a free pass to throw more nasty comments his way.

“The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard’s spells.”, Harry recited in flat tones word for word Snape’s own explanation from a very long time ago. “It is not alive,”, he droned. “it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard’s bidding. While a ghost is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth – _and_ the Inferi are solid.”, he couldn’t stop himself adding.

Harry could see just on the edge of his visual span Hermione giving him an odd look and thought that if he remembered her character well enough, she was sure to confront him soon about whatever it was she found strange about him.

***

Sure enough at the first opportunity, Hermione accosted him.

“What’s happened, Harry?”, she asked, her eyes determined. Of course she wasn’t one to back down once discerning there was something amiss. Still, it was odd for her to act any different from the original timeline. She hadn’t said anything new since he’d come back.

“What? When?” , he tried though he had the feeling he couldn’t fool her.

“It’s something to do with professor Snape, hasn’t it?”

Harry blinked facing her but proved unable to hold her gaze.

“Is it that obvious?”, he frowned when she sighed.

“No. I don’t think it’s obvious, but I’ve been watching you two for long enough to know something isn’t right. What did you do this time?”

“This time? What did I do? Hermione, please, I’ve done nothing at all! It’s all just…”, he trailed off unable to put his frustration into words.

“What happened?”

“Well, in short – he told me to stop pestering him. He said he’d put up with me for – Dumbledore’s sake, but he wouldn’t anymore.”

Hermione gasped but seemed to force herself to restrain her responses when she saw the look on his face.

“What are you planning to do now?”

“I’ll do as I’m told, isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to enrage him any further. It’s obvious he can’t stand me..” he broke off trying to clear his throat.

“You mustn’t think like that, Harry. It – it doesn’t look like he hates you. Of course you two have always played your parts well –“, Hermione looked uncertain for a moment. “But I don’t believe professor Snape could really hate you. It’s more like…I don’t know. I think there must have been some other reason for him to say this to you.”

“Yeah, like what exactly?”

“I don’t know…”

“You know, don’t you?”, he stared at her suddenly understanding the reason for the conversation in the first place.

“I just told you I don’t.”

“No. I mean you know why – I mean how – ah, help me here, please.”

Hermione looked quite confused as to what Harry was talking about but finally she nodded.

“I had suspected it since last year.”

“How? I –“

“Harry,”, she almost chided. “you only ever have light in your eyes when you come back from the dungeons. I might have noticed it earlier and attributed it to respect or mentorship or anything innocent, but it was obvious what it was after you took no interest in Cho’s blatant attempts to corner you or in any of the others’ advances.”

Harry sighed deeply, relaxed now that he had finally shared a bit of his weight with another living soul.

“I’m hopeless. I only want him to be happy you see. It’s a beautiful irony that his happiness should lie in me being as far away as possible.”

***

Before Harry could notice just how much time had passed, he found himself in the bathroom on the third floor with Malfoy drenched in his own blood and Snape muttering the counter curse that would seal the wounds.

Again Snape escorted the boy to the hospital wing and again he stood and waited, leaning against the wall and staring blankly at the reddened floor while wondering what Snape would do to him now.

It was as if a storm and not Snape have entered. Severus moved so fast, Harry only realized what had happened once he was pinned to the wall, the professor’s body flush against his to prevent him to move at all.

“How dare you, Potter?”, he hissed venomously. “What were you thinking? To kill him? To kill me?” he hissed glaring straight in his eyes with mere centimeters between them. It was as if Snape was trying to prove to him he didn’t need Legilimency to shred his defenses and tear at him. Unnerving was too weak a word to describe Harry’s horror. Even while terrified, he found himself relishing in the contact. How stupid it was that he could be this close to Severus only when he was so enraged he wished he could kill Harry with bare hands instead of magic. “Or were you imagining perhaps this foolish act of yours would change my mind? Are you threatening me, Potter, is that it?”

“N-no – please, step back –“ Harry barely managed to say, trying to gather his thoughts and stop this madness.

“Why then?”

“I couldn’t do anything else, alright?”, Harry growled trying to get away even as somewhere deeper inside he didn’t wish their conversation to end. “I had to defend myself, I didn’t know what effect –“

“Don’t lie to me, Potter!”

Harry struggled. Did Snape want to kill him for real?

“Stop harassing me this instant, sir!”, he shouted. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Snape let go of him and Harry almost fell as he did. He swayed a bit using the wall for support.

“I’ve kept out of your way to the best of my ability.”, Harry hissed in turn. “But I can’t just allow Malfoy to torture me with the Cruciatus so you wouldn’t have to deal with me. I am terribly sorry if my existence is such a nuisance to you. Go to hell.”

“That would be detention for you. Every Saturday till the end of term. ”, Snape said calmly as if he hadn’t heard a word of Harry’s. “Ten o’clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office.”

***

Just when Harry had thought he’d put his emotions under some semblance of control, this had to happen to shatter him once more. He felt he should have put more effort in readying himself for the confrontation as he knew too well it would come and in the meantime, he knew too what had happened the last time after his second detention with Snape this year. On this point, there were two different buzzing voices in his head. While one was saying he had no desire to experience it again, the other was wondering how if he should allow himself a second chance with Ginny. On one hand he felt he’d never had any chance of changing his life by coming back and was inclined to think it was his only chance to pick up the pieces and try rebuilding his future. Because if he went on like this, distancing himself from everyone that had been a part of his old life, nothing would be left to him but Severus. Severus, who wanted him to be as far away as possible. Maybe this was the instant he had to choose between a life of solitude and… But on the other hand could he be happy with Ginny anymore? She was likable as always, this at least was true. But Harry no longer had any desire to be with her in that way. And if he chose to repeat his path, wouldn’t he wonder everyday what would have happened if he stayed alone? It was possible things could change. Maybe Harry would find someone new…maybe he didn’t want to give up on Severus just yet no matter how impossible it had become.

***

His thoughts were still in disarray when he stepped in Snape’s office at ten o’clock on Saturday.

Severus ignored his presence for a minute or two, which could only mean he’d come a bit early.

“Eager for a detention, Potter?”, his voice sounded a bit hoarse like he’d been yelling for the past hour or so. “Let’s get it over with. Through here.” Snape gestured to his private lab and Harry frowned. He’d expected the same detention he’d been given eight years ago and scolded himself for believing his actions wouldn’t weight.

Severus thrust a set of papers in Harry’s hands and Harry scanned them incredulously seeing they formed a full schedule of his detention work, comprising various tasks, most of them harder than anything Harry’d ever done and all of them were concerned with potions.

“You are to mark each task when you are finished. You are not to leave before all tasks assigned for the day are done. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”, Harry managed still engrossed in today’s schedule.

***

It was only half an hour later when Harry realized this form of detention was much worse than the original. There was no way he’d finish till the end of the game. Was it all the same? That surely would serve to cut his options if he decided on keeping his old life. No. It was no longer an option at all even if he finished on time. No – well Harry didn’t know what to think anymore.

***

It was half past one o’clock when Harry deemed his work done and finished clearing up. There on the table stood only the cauldron with the unfinished potion which was now about at one forth on the way to becoming ready. The worst thing was, if he wanted to finish this detention he’d have to come here for an extra hour for at least two weeks. 

Before exiting, Harry skimmed through the other pages of his assignments. One third were antidotes, another third medicinal potions, and the last category comprised of some of the most difficult potions Harry’d ever heard of. What was Snape thinking, getting him to do this like he was studying for a freaking mastery in the subject? And how could he have left him alone to them? Sure, Harry understood Severus had no desire to be in one room with him for so long, but why this and not some other pointless work?

He exited the lab but as the professor didn’t even look up to acknowledge him Harry too left without saying a word.

***

When he reached the Gryffindor common room the celebration had almost died out. They were as happy to see him and break the news as the first time, but to Harry it was all the same. Right in that moment he felt the impending doom of being alone for the rest of his life. 

It was all he could do to pronounce how glad he was about winning the match and saying he had a headache.

Though this seemed good for everybody else, it didn’t fool Hermione who caught up with him just when he’d climbed the staircase to the boys dormitory.

“Harry, wait!”, she called and he sighed turning around.

“Please Hermione, can’t it wait? I’m not in the mood right now.”

“It’s just about that actually. How did it go?”

Harry frowned totally confused.

“Like a detention is supposed to I think. I went there, did some nasty piece of crap for two hours and a half and here I am, fresh as pumpkin juice.”

“Oh, well what did he make you do?”

“An antidote for Veritaserum –“

“Wow –“

“Adapted to the taker’s standard parameters.”

“That’s strange.”

Harry eyed her mockingly. She was too naïve to think it strange Snape would take the chance and harass him.

“What’s strange about it is that he only insisted on regular parameters like height and weight. I’m sure he’d have enjoyed seeing me measuring myself according to volume properties.”

Hermione looked too serious to have registered what he’s just said. “If you’re not going to listen, I’d prefer to go lie down now.”

“Oh…yes, yes, you do that. I – I’ll see you later.”

Harry watched her run down the stairs and out of the common room without an idea about what have just happened. Maybe the antidote for Veritaserum was banned from curriculum or something. Too bad for him either way, so he decided to really try to relax for a few hours.

***

However he didn’t see her later. In the sense that she didn’t tell him any of her potential findings that day, or the day after that. When he confronted her about it at last it was in DADA class on Monday while they were supposed to practice and she’d hushed him. Later that day she’d said it was really nothing at all, she’d just remembered she’d misinterpreted a rune and had gone to professor  Babbling about it. Harry didn’t believe her completely, considering he was almost sure he saw the ancient runes professor leave to go to Hogsmeade early on Saturday.

Their conversation however managed to bring Snape closer and eye them threateningly. It was a small wonder he didn’t deduct points on the spot, so Harry let the question hang in his head.

***

On Thursday, five minutes after classes ended, Harry reluctantly knocked on the door of Snape’s office.

“I’m here to –“, Snape waved at the door of his private lab without looking up. Harry narrowed his eyes and stepped quickly through the side-door. What was with this man seriously? This new attitude aka the invisible Potter was seriously doing a tap dance on his nerves these days. Snape had last addressed him first in the bathroom and a second time when he’d given him the schedule and this was all he’d said to him since he’d kicked him out of his office. Surely he’d made a perfectly good point then, why reinforcing it so diligently. Was he afraid that maybe Harry’d forget his little speech and start pestering him again? Was he supposed to be retarded or something? But of course in Severus’ eyes he might be just that. How screwed up did that make him?

Harry was tempted to do a nice explosion just to spite Snape. But realizing it could only result in all Gryffindor rubies to vanish, he managed to resist. Forty-five minutes later he was done, had put his potion in stasis till Saturday and rested on the edge of the table quite reluctant to leave the lab and face Snape again. He must have spaced out right there for at least a couple of minutes for he was startled when the door opened. Snape stood on the doorway eyeing the room at large.

“Get out.”, he said calmly at last and Harry, eager to do just that, almost ran out.

***

The routine didn’t change one bit for the remainder of the school year. What differed was the small comfort that Hermione never confronted him about Severus again. He went down to the dungeons every Saturday and occasionally in the evenings through the week to finish his scheduled assignments and Snape was always silent in his company when he wasn’t being compelled to speak.

The weeks passed quickly almost unnoticed as Harry’s thoughts got even more confused and the conclusion elusive.

***

What woke him to reality was the strangeness to speak with professor Trelawney about her interview again. He could almost picture Snape lurking outside the room in the Hog’s Head, listening in on the prophecy that would finish Voldemort.

As he entered Dumbledore's office he was ready to act a pissed off teen, but surprisingly, the compel wasn’t there to push him forth. He thought about it for a moment and decided to test it. How would it be if he could actually speak to Dumbledore tonight?

“Sir, I –“

“Harry I promised you that you could –“

“Sir, I’m sorry but we don’t have time for this.” The headmaster stared at him for a long moment no doubt trying to prod in his mind. “It’s about the mirror, sir.”, Harry added quickly.

“Ah, well this is certainly…surprising, Harry. You used it I presume?”

“Yes.”

“And came back?”

“Yes.”

“But why telling me this…unless…ah, I see, the time has come.”

“Um, yes, and I was wondering…”

“How much time would you say we have for this?”

Harry frowned trying to remember exactly how things happened.

“A couple of minutes right now and about half an hour after we apparate.”

“I’d prefer to talk later rather than now if that’s agreeable with you.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Just one question, Harry. Did all go according to plan?”

Harry thought about it for a second. Dumbledore wanted to know this in his last living hours so he couldn’t possibly deny him and there seemed to be no problem with fate on this because, Harry thought, he had too little time to change anything.

“For the most part, sir. Not everything, no. But the important thing is it all ended well for us… I’d better be going. We don’t have all night.”

***

The story again repeated itself up until they reached the entrance to the cave.

“So…Harry, I never thought it would be you who’d come back.”, Harry swallowed thickly, thinking to himself he was foolish not to realize he’d probably taken somebody else’s chance for redemption. “You see the mirror was enchanted for Severus.”

“For – for him?”, Harry repeated incredulous. “But why?”

“Well, Harry, I guessed, as you probably already know, that your protection should be enough to face Voldemort and live to tell the tale. But could we really risk the off chance that you would not? Something, anything might have gone wrong. It all depended on Severus, so I made the enchantment and told him to use it if he’d failed to give you the message.”

“But –“, Harry stopped, thinking frantically for a few moments while Dumbledore scanned the stone wall of the cave where an entrance would soon appear. “It wants blood.”, he muttered.

“Ah, I thought so, thank you.”

“But he couldn’t have done it. The mirror would never have let him pass. He hated me.”

“Did he now? Well, he certainly claimed so, but… I don’t seriously believe he’s ever hated you.”

“He did! He does! Still does despite my effort…or again maybe because of it. Two months ago he told me how annoying I am – shouted it in fact – and then he said he never wanted to see me again if he could help it.”

“Ah, but you put too much store in words, my boy. Try with actions, really, they sometimes speak a more understandable language. – However, I stay by what I said. It is my belief that he’d have no problem using the mirror.”

“I hope we’ll never know, sir.”

“Yes, quite. Excuse me for the indiscretion but I have to ask – how old are you now?”

“Um…twenty-four, sir.”

“So you –“, Harry nodded unwilling to remind himself just how much wasted time he had behind him. “But why did you choose to come, Harry? Surely you realized what you’d face in returning so far back.”

“Yeah, well…I didn’t have much choice.”

“No, of course you didn’t.”, replied Dumbledore gravely while entering the boat. “Well that’s quite enough talk, lets act now, my dear boy, and pray it’ll all have the best outcome possible.”

***

Time is a marvelous thing. Quite ironic in the manifestation of your wishes, Harry noticed for a second time in his life. There they were and in what seemed like mere seconds…Dumbledore had fallen. His thoughts whirled only to enlighten the conclusion he was again left behind, seemingly doomed to be, to stay, to stagnate into what had the potential to be nothing but a nightmare of an existence.

And again he was forced to spring into action when the full body-bind curse was lifted, doing it all over again for no purpose at all. But he ran, partly because there was nothing else for him to do and partly because hurt was becoming his most dependable source of proof that he was more than a ghost locked in his memories.

***

**_ And now he saw the vast outline of Hagrid, illuminated by the light of the crescent moon revealed suddenly behind clouds. _ **

**_ Harry tore past Hagrid and his opponent, took aim at Snape’s back, and yelled, “Stupefy!”  _ **

**_ He missed; the jet of red light soared past Snape’s head; Snape shouted, “Run, Draco!” _ **

**_ and _ ** **_ turned. Twenty yards apart, he and Harry looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.  _ **

Harry wasn’t sure which was worse – the fact that Severus hated him, or what he was about to do. He didn’t seem to have a choice though, the Death Eater was still close enough to see and hear everything Harry said.

**_ “Cruc —”  _ **

**_ Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backward off his feet before he could complete it; Harry rolled over and scrambled back up again as the huge Death Eater behind him yelled, “Incendio!” Harry heard an explosive bang and a dancing orange light spilled over all of them: Hagrid’s house was on fire.  _ **

**_ “Fang’s in there, yer evil —!” Hagrid bellowed.  _ **

**_ “Cruc —” yelled Harry for the second time, aiming for the figure ahead illuminated in the dancing firelight, but Snape blocked the spell again. Harry could see him sneering.  _ **

**_ “No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!” he shouted over the rushing of the flames, Hagrid’s yells, and the wild yelping of the trapped Fang. “You haven’t got the nerve or the ability —”  _ **

**_ “Incarc —”Harry roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm.  _ **

**_ “Fight back!” Harry screamed at him. “Fight back, you cowardly —”  _ **

**_ “Coward, did you call me, Potter?” shouted Snape. “Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?”  _ **

**_ “Stupe —”  _ **

**_ “Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more. _ **

Harry stared at him. was it…perhaps his imagination? His memory coming to life? Snape shouldn’t have said this now… or should he? Was this his way of letting Harry know all was not as it seemed to be? Severus knew he could see nothing of Harry’s thoughts or emotions unless… Was this what he wanted? And if it was should Harry give it? Give reassurance to Snape now? Of course he deserved it but it wasn’t’ the point. Severus’d hurt him… maybe too much. It would be foolish of Harry to…

**_ “Now come!” Snape shouted at the huge Death Eater behind Harry. “It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up —”  _ **

**_ “Impedi —”  _ **

**_ But before he could finish this jinx, excruciating pain hit Harry; he keeled over in the grass.  _ **

**_ “No!” roared Snape’s voice and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his wand and panting; somewhere overhead Snape was shouting, “Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord — we are to leave him! Go! Go!”  _ ** **_ _ **

**_ And Harry felt the ground shudder under his face as the brother and sister and the enormous Death Eater obeyed, running toward the gates. _ ** ** _Pushing himself to his feet again, Harry staggered blindly toward Snape,_ **

**_ “Sectum—!” _ ** **__ **

**_ Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again; but Harry was mere feet away now and he could see Snape’s face clearly at last: He was no longer sneering or jeering; the blazing flames showed a face full of rage. Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi —  _ **

**_ “No, Potter!” screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape’s pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore.  _ **

_ ‘I trust you.’  _ Harry though concentrating harder than ever on those three words now Snape was close enough and felt himself penetrating a foreign mind for the first time. _I still trust you._ And it wasn’t charity. It wasn’t just because he knew what this man would do later. It didn’t matter after all whether he hated him or not. It was too insignificant to change the fierce determination in Harry to erase this look off Snape’s face forever. To see him satisfied, maybe even happy and in any case alive after this hell of a war was over. Harry would be fine then, he’d have a life to live and many opportunities to fight for happiness. But the man before him was a man who’d fought his whole life only to get here. Admittedly he was bitter, a bully and maybe had a bit too much darkness in his heart, but he’d done enough. Nothing else should have been asked of him. ‘ _I may be damned but I’ll always trust you’_

Harry could only hope he was understood. He didn’t dare even imagine in this moment that his words would mean something to this man, but really it was all he could do for him at this point. And he knew too well that the last time around Snape was devastated with where he’d put himself by doing this and with the deed itself.

Severus didn’t say anything further, instead whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and hurried out of the gates.

So this was it. His final chance to see Snape for far too long. When they next saw each other it would be it – the final exam he’d have to take to prove he hasn’t wasted his entire life.


	8. Years 7 and 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years 7 and 8  
> As always lines in bold italic are written by J.K Rowling

** Year 7 **

Funny how time trickled slowly when you yearned for something too far away in the future. Harry’d been tempted to defy fate in order to fast forward the inanity of repetition but he knew he couldn’t afford any missed opportunity – any missed second for it might have provided an unexpected opportunity.

He’d had those, through the years, moments when the shackles of his old life relaxed unexpectedly and he could do something else, or even occasionally say something else. 

So far all the odds were against him. He didn’t have a real plan, he had a few phials full of antidote and a handful of spells, a half-finished animagus transformation and a few drops of liquid luck left. He did feel self-pity; at times he felt self-disgust. He was the wrong person to come back, so much has been made clear to him and he was woefully unprepared to finish what he had started and keep him safe. It stung, of course it stung. And he couldn’t say he thought about much else but only in his dreams when he had nothing to gain pretending, where he could hold him and keep him from harm, he could find peace. Minutes, days and months trickled by past him and his nightmares never changed.

***

**_ A bright silver light appeared right ahead of him, moving through the trees. Whatever the source, _ ** _ **it was moving soundlessly. The light seemed simply to drift toward him.** _

Harry watched it approaching transfixed. He knew what was coming, knew Severus had to still be somewhere close by and yet his eyes were glued to the silver light. 

**_ He screwed up his eyes as the light became blinding, the trees in front of it pitch black in silhouette, and still the thing came closer…  _ **

**_ And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak. _ ** **** And there came a surprise so sudden it frightened Harry, who thought wildly that something’s gone terribly wrong. This wasn’t Snape’s patronus, this wasn’t his mother’s patronus and it certainly wasn’t a silver doe. No, a silver bird was instead flying toward him and though it seemed too strange to be happening, Harry again felt that sensation telling him it was okay, that he knew this patronus. Still if it wasn’t Severus’ who else could have sent it? Only the Order members used the patronus charm to send messages and this meant it should be alright…didn’t it? He gazed in the bird’s eyes and felt the strangest thing yet. It was as though it was speaking to him even though no words really came out and Harry suddenly realized he knew those eyes, he’d waited for those eyes all along. Those were Lily’s eyes. This had to be Snape’s patronus. Admittedly this made no logical sense but he knew with all his heart that nothing had gone wrong, that this was an infinitesimal change and that he could trust this creature. So when the bird flapped its silvery white wings and drifted away in the direction of the lake, Harry followed just like he did the last time. Still mesmerized by this inexplicable occurrence when everything else was so perfectly structured, he watched the bird vanishing, feeling the loss of something precious yet unknown.

***

“You have to promise me this: you shall not speak, you won’t protest, you won’t ask questions and most of all you will not discuss this with anybody. If you cannot swear to it you must go back right now.”, Harry hissed, not able to look back at them.

He groped behind him and she forced the bundle of slippery cloth into his free hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, murmured, “ _Nox_ ,” **_extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light._**

**_ “It cannot be any other way,” said Voldemort. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”  _ **

**_ And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort’s intention became clear. The snake’s cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.  _ **

**_ “Kill.”  _ **

**_ There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake’s fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.  _ **

**_ “I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly.  _ **

Just like that ** _Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere._**

As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room and crouched next to Snape trying not to pay attention to the state of the man he loved, the fear in his eyes, his ghostly white face, all the blood pouring from his neck, and the bloody fingers that grabbed at the front of his robes pulling him close. Even as his eyes watered, he continued fumbling in his pockets for something until he found it.

‘I already know.”, Harry whispered urgently as the small crack sounded and with it a house elf appeared. Kreacher, shabby as ever was silent and quite expressionless as he gave Harry the phial he was holding and stood perfectly still afterwards.

Harry looked at Snape who had his mouth open about to say something. He couldn’t bare stare in Severus’ eyes right now as the three unbidden words sounded loud and clear in his mind terrifying him more than the wounded man before him. He hastily took the potion and tipped it to Severus’ parted lips.

This first one was designed to dissolve the snake’s venom and he couldn’t entrust it to his house elf’s administration. The next one that followed only seconds later was blood-replenishing potion. The mix would undoubtedly give Severus some nasty side-effects but Harry hadn’t been able to adjust it any better. It was after all a matter of life and death and discomfort was something Snape knew how to live through better than most. 

After Harry’d emptied the contents of the second bottle into his mouth and Snape had swallowed it, he extracted his wand pointing at the bloody wound. He tried to bring forth some confidence to be able to do it right. He knew he was no meddiwizard but he had no other option right now. It was this or bursting into the great hall and shouting at madam Pomfrey, which of course, his gut feeling told him clearly, couldn’t happen. The wound was proving tough to seal. He tried a few times getting angry and scared all the more, as his hands started to tremble and he didn’t dare look up to Snape’s face and see if there was still life in him. He nearly jumped when he felt someone else kneel beside him.

“Both.”, was all Hermione said, and sighed not able to express how grateful he was. He alone would never have been good enough to do it but both of them maybe…

At last, after what felt like ages, the wound closed. Harry’s eyes dared travel now to Severus’ face. The eyelids were closed and he looked so much paler than usual that it hurt to look at him. Harry panicked, instinctively squeezing his eyes as the tears obscured his vision and tried to feel for a heartbeat on his chest. When he felt it he thought he’d surely die of relief. 

So far so good. He hadn’t dared believe he’d be able to manage so well in this crucial moment. All of his nightmares dispersing now, he felt like laughing. Just a final touch and nothing else mattered. 

He turned around and nodded at Kreacher who seemed to have been waiting just for this, kneeled, took Snape in his arms and disappeared with another crack.

Licking his lips Harry got up on trembling legs and Hermione followed him back to the tunnel where Ron waited staring incredulously at them both. He didn’t dare speak at this place however so the three of them started through the tunnel and back to the grounds.

***

“What the bloody hell was that about?”, Ron almost shouted once they were back out of the Whomping willow.

“Be quiet, Ron!”, hissed Hermione under the cloak.

“Remember that you’ve sworn.”, Harry whispered and felt them both nod. “I’ll explain everything to you after it’s all over.”

“Assuming we survive…”, Ron murmured.

“We will survive.”, Harry assured him before Hermione could intervene.

***

Once they got back into the castle Hermione and Ron again moved towards the Great hall while Harry didn’t waste any time to think. He’d suffered all the deaths already and however cruel it may have seemed even to him, he had no intention of stopping for them right now. Instead he turned to the staircase and ran straight to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster’s office. Just like before the password was Dumbledore and Harry sighed with relief. It wouldn’t do for this to change now. Barging in like a madman he immediately transfigured the desk into a bed and his eyes searched frantically for black robes. There he was with Kreacher by his side applying some paste to the closed wound.

“It hasn’t opened again?”, Harry asked in a trembling voice.

“No, master,”, Kreacher drawled. “He awakened when Kreacher moved him and Kreacher gave him the blue bottle just as master instructed.”

“Good job, Kreacher.”, Harry sighed. “Step back, I’m going to move him to lie on the bed.”

As Kreacher drew back Harry muttered the spell and floated Severus’ body to the mattress. He looked too still, too pale for Harry to be relieved yet. Yes the critical moment had passed, but his body still had too much to fight tonight.

Just as he let him rest down Snape’s eyes fluttered open and Harry immediately closed the distance between them trying to find his voice, to sound confident, reassuring. He failed miserably.

“Sir, please don’t try to speak or move. Just…listen…”, he trailed off as Snape closed his eyes but after a moment he opened them again. “You are in the headmaster’s office, sir. You have taken three potions. Anti-venom, blood-replenishing and pain reliever. I cannot give you anything else right now as even those were too much for your system. I know what you feel right now must be excruciating but this is the only chance for your survival so please, just –“, his voice broke off completely as his throat seemed to constrict around a painful lump but he tried to mask it with a cough and hastened to continue. “Kreacher will be here in an instant should you need anything. You can trust he’ll take care of you until it’s over.”

As difficult as it was Harry stepped back to Dumbledore's old cabinet extracting an empty bottle. Touching his forehead with Draco’s wand and putting the silvery substance inside the bottle, he left it corked on an empty shelf and turned to face Severus again. He’d evidently seen him do this.

“It is for you. Once you’re better you must see it. Kreacher,”, he addressed the elf and Kreacher immediately vanished. “It’s time.”, Harry said finally and with one last look towards Snape, exited the office. 

***

What he had to do right now was against every self-preservation instinct encoded in the human mind. He had to try and die again. It was hard enough any part of him wasn’t fond of the idea and the fact he knew he would survive didn’t help too much his intention of sacrifice. Wasn’t it enough to walk there and take the blow? No, of course it wasn’t – he had to bloody mean it. 

And on the other hand there was the complication of Snape’s change of state which he now had no way of knowing.

Harry’d put his Invisibility cloak on the moment he stepped outside the headmaster’s office and willed his legs forward as fast as he could go without outright running down the staircase. 

Everything happened as before. He again saw Neville and revealed himself telling him to kill the snake. It was a relief that history was still repeating itself. How different would things have gone if Nagini was still alive in the final battle Harry didn’t dare speculate. Instead he moved on in a hurry stopping only when fate prompted him to. He had to use the damn stone in the snitch which he had dreaded for almost the whole year. What would his parents say, what would Sirius and Remus say now they knew who Harry really was and what he’d done to them, he really didn’t want to know. But there was no choice to it, so Harry lifted the snitch and with it the memory of a time long passed in which he was naïve and pure.

“I’m about to die.”, he whispered and hurried to close his eyes as he motioned the stone inside his palm wishing he was dead already. He stayed like this, feeling the eerie figures, hearing faintly their movements.

“Harry.”, he recognized the voices of his father and Sirius mingled together.

“Harry, dear.”, his mother’s soft voice sounded in his years. Instead of helping him, it pored all the shame he was holding in a tight corner pore and flood his entire essence. “You’ve been so brave.”, her voice sounded again making him open his eyes frowning.

“What?”, he hissed in a low voice.

“You’re nearly there” James said just like before. “Very close. We are…so proud of you.”

“What?”, Harry repeated dumbfounded. “You can’t possibly be… don’t you know? Do you have an idea what I’ve done?”

It was Sirius who answered this time.

“Of course we know. So what?”

“So? So I am the reason…the reason each of you is dead right now!”, Harry barely contained himself.

“You are not.”, Remus replied calmly. “It couldn’t have happened any other way, Harry.”

“Of course it could have! I could have come back for you, Remus, or for Sirius, or my mum and dad…but I didn’t. I came for him because….”

“You came for him because you had to.” Lily said. “Because he deserved it to be done and because you deserved it to be done. It was never his time to go, dear. It was ours.”

Harry looked pleadingly at them. He wanted to ask more, to know how they could be so certain, so forgiving when he remembered very well what he had experienced with the mirror. But he knew he had no more time to spare here.

“I have to die – I…I really have to – now, don’t I?”, there was silence in which Harry swallowed and realized that perhaps this was really the end. 

The fear moved him forward instead of urging him back. He stepped out of the shadows pocketing his cloak just like before. And barely a moment had passed before Harry saw the flash of green light and everything went blank.

***

Harry groaned just before he opened his eyes. he had to wait for only a moment for Dumbledore to appear by his side.

“How? Why?”. He growled through gritted teeth and to his irritation Dumbledore chuckled.

“Now, Harry, calm down. You’ve been imagining I am sure this would be the end of the story. You have forgotten the reason for your journey, my boy.”

Harry sighed.

“The mirror was a measure of saving me.”

“Precisely! And while it didn’t go exactly according to plan, you couldn’t have simply died. In the worst case scenario, Severus would have come back to prevent it. Don’t forget the mirror is still there and he is still alive.”

“I still say he couldn’t have done it.”, Harry replied stubbornly.

“He couldn’t have failed in a million years. But why is this uncharacteristic petulance? You can still go on – if you wish.”

“It’s not that I’ve given up, headmaster. I’ve just had enough of repeating myself for a lifetime.”

Dumbledore laughed at his words.

“Ah, but little remains for this playact of yours, Harry, yes?”

“How do you know?”, Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I don’t.”, he said simply. “I was merely guessing by what you’ve already told me and by your expression I see I am right.”

“It doesn’t matter though.”, he sighed. “I’ve nothing to do after tonight.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you, my boy. You may feel far from it but you _are_ seventeen. You can still do whatever you wish with your life.”

“I wish you would tell me something actually.”

“And what would that be?”

“How can you be so certain Snape could have come back?”

Dumbledore chuckled softly but as Harry glared he hastened to compose himself.

“Yes, well, it is because the mirror was _designed_ __ to work for him explicitly.”

Harry frowned and tried to think about this piece of information but it didn’t seem to fit at all.

“But then how come I was able –“

“I am surprised you haven’t figured it out already.”, he replied serenely. “I can only guess you will find out soon enough one way or another. Now, Harry, it is time for you to make your choice for a second and hopefully last time.”

This choice was just as much illusion as the first one had been. Harry’s heart had all the answers and his head could not compete. How could he ever rest if he did not know that the man had survived, that he still breathed? No, peace would not be found anytime soon, not for him anyway.

***

** Year 8 **

An year had passed since the events of the final battle, changing a lot of things in its way. Harry had again gotten his Order of Merlin First class, had with painstaking efforts managed to clear Snape’s name and he, in turn, had gotten a second class order, though some still whispered there was something dodgy about it. What Harry was currently most proud of was his long due achievement of his animagus form which was in fact brilliant as Hermione had commented. She called it  Buteogallus gundlachii after finding him in an encyclopedia. He called it black hawk after frowning stupidly at her. The variation of the name didn’t change the fact that the form suited his personality perfectly. He absolutely loved flying and doing it without the aid of a broomstick actually felt liberating. The coloring was his own, his eyes were still green, his beak was the coolest as it had deep blue to the front merging with the gold of the base. In short, he felt rather narcissistic these days. 

It felt fulfilling to remember he’d spent his last eighteenth birthday alone on his couch eating junk and drinking firewhiskey from ten in the morning. He now had behind him a rather fruitful year to combine with the open doors of future opportunities.

What was the only set back was the most important thing of course. Everything had happened so fast then, he had failed to track its course but there still was the fact he haven’t really seen or spoken with Severus since the night of the battle. Harry knew he’d recovered, he’d made sure Snape was transferred to a private ward at St Mungo’s hospital and had frequently checked on his condition. He was also positive Severus had seen the memories he gave him as when he next had went to the office, the small bottle was gone, but Harry had no more information on the matter. He had decided even before that night, he wouldn’t disturb the Potions Master anymore. If Snape’d chosen to contact him, they would have talked but as he hadn’t done anything of the sort, Harry could only suspect the reasons for it. The reasons he came up with only served to dim his achievements and self-esteem altogether. The only rational explanation he conjured was that Snape still found him annoying and now that he knew what Harry’d done, he had a perfectly good reason to support his claim, adding obsessive freak to the bunch of epithets he no doubt already had. It was only natural Snape hadn’t contacted him with questions of his reasons for doing such a stupid thing. The man was probably glad he had gotten rid of him for good now Harry had finally graduated post factum. It was a rough day when he received his diploma via owl. A cause for celebration on one hand as he had three outstanding NEWT scores, and a huge cause for grief as this major part of his life ended. It wasn’t like he could have went back to Hogwarts for school reasons anymore, so he couldn’t have had a chance to see Snape there at all, but still it hurt to see the evidence he had no place there anymore. There was still the question in Harry’s mind about what Severus was doing there after Voldemort was gone for good. He suspected the man felt attached to this place after all the years spent there and still found it comforting to know he had come home from the hospital and continued with his old life.

***

Harry’s eighteenth birthday was a cause for too much of a celebration going on in the Burrow. He had insisted on it being at his own place but it turned out it was a bad idea to try winning an argument with Molly Weasley. As it was, invitations exceeded the room in his apartment any way so it was for the best. Around three o’clock in the afternoon of July the 31st in the backyard of the Burrow were gathered about fifty people. Most of them were Harry’s friends, so he didn’t mind. There were also the Minister of Magic, half the staff of Hogwarts and various colleagues of Arthur who’d been in the Order – most of these were people Harry hadn’t even met before. The party was alright, everyone seemed to have fun, which was a bit bizarre with such a diverse crowd but Harry didn’t pay too much attention to that. He’d just finished a long conversation with Shacklebolt revolving a bit too close to the subject of ex Death Eaters and Malfoy in particular and sat down on the nearest chair just beside professors Flitwick, Hagrid and McGonagall who were conversing quietly.

“Minerva, I say you post an advertisement and see if someone fitting applies.”

“’s professor, y’ n’ver know s’mone might be int’rested. B’sides ya can’t go on teachin’ much longer.”

“I just want to be sure the person who replaces me will be someone capable of the job. It is one of the hardest subjects taught in Hogwarts after all. And I –“

“And you don’t want to give it up.”, Flitwick chimed in. “I understand Minerva, but it is time you do. It is too much for one person to handle.”

“Yes, yes, I am aware, thank you very much, Filius.”, she sighed.

Harry’ instinct was to immediately jump to his feet and approach her about the opening. Still he stood right where he was, too old now to be this impulsive, and he laughed inwardly. Should he do it though? Try for the post? It would be nice to go back to Hogwarts, he knew from experience it wasn’t too awful to be a teacher and he believed himself accomplished enough in Transfiguration to have little problem helping kids grasp the essentials. On the other hand there was Snape with all the bittersweet emotion he brought with the mere thought of the man he was. He would be ecstatic to see Severus again, be in his presence now and then. He would be reachable if Harry was in the castle. He could see him every day. And yet… Snape didn’t want to see him. Would he be disturbed too much if Harry became a professor? Would his hate finally show? Would Snape look upon him like he’d looked at Lupin all those years ago – with hatred, revulsion, disgust? No, it would probably be worse since Harry had wronged him in a much more unconventional way, barging in on his innermost thoughts and memories and defiling them with falsehood all through their time together. But the question wasn’t this, no, it was whether it was better or worse for Severus if Harry was in the castle. And if it was worse, was it going to be bad enough to really hurt him?

***

For the rest of the day nothing could distract Harry from this train of thought. He’d concluded at last that he could allow himself do it. He could take steps to show Snape he wasn’t going to go back in his life full force. He would just be there, maybe watch from a distance, maybe saying ‘good day’ and ‘good evening’, but nothing more. Besides, he couldn’t really be sure McGonagall would allow it at all as Harry had just gotten out of school and was largely inexperienced. No, he decided, no fault for trying. And try he did, right on the following day.

Just at noon he apparated to Hogwarts and was going on his way to the empty castle when Hagrid saw him.

“What’r ya doin’ here Harry?”

“Hi, Hagrid, I came to see professor McGonagall. Do you happen to know where she is?”

“She’d be in ‘er office by now. I’ll come with ya.”

“Thank you.”, Harry smiled and walked on. “Hagrid?”

“Yea, Harry?”

“How’s professor Snape these days?”

“Why’d ya ask that Harry?”

“Well I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just wondering if he was alright.”, he replied serenely.

“Ah, I imagine ya‘d like to know yea. He’s fine Harry. He’s teachin’ Potions again…and he’s…”

“He’s happy?”

“Well, ya know how Snape is. He’s just about as happy as a blast-ended skrewt when you get on its wrong side.”

Harry snorted.

“Yes, I imagine he is as fine as he’ll ever be.”

***

The walk to the headmaster’s office through the empty halls of the castle was one of the longest Harry’d experienced. The cold stone seemed to mock his resolve in silky tones, laughing at the audacity to show himself here, uncomprehending as to how he could deceive himself into believing his actions harmless. At last he arrived to the gargoyle much to McGonagall’s surprise.

“Potter, what are you doing here?”, she almost yelled as she admitted him. Harry smiled widely.

“It’s good to see you too, professor.”

“You very well know you are always welcome to visit,”, she continued in her brisk tone. “just try to make an arrangement next time.”

“Yes, I knew there was something I missed in planning.”, he laughed soundlessly and sat when gestured to do so. “As a matter of fact I came in the spur of the moment with a request to make, professor.”

“A request, is it then, Potter? Well, speak.”

“I heard a rumor, professor, that there was an opening to be filled in your staff by the start of the new term.”

“Where did you – never mind that. You have recommendation for the post then I presume?”

“Well, not exactly. I would like to apply for the post myself.”, Harry said his voice trembling a little. It was very intimidating to assert oneself in front of one’s former head of house.

“You? Applying for the post of transfiguration teacher? Nonsense, Potter.”

“Well, as you know,” he began calmly. “I received an outstanding on my newts and besides I’ve recently registered my animagus form and I feel I have the necessary accomplishments to be here.”

“Yes, certainly this is all good, Potter – but you just turned eighteen. If you would wait an year or two then maybe… but now… now –“

“Is this you worrying about the board of governors or –“

“I’m sure the board of governors would be delighted in having you, Potter, but –“

“So you fear I’m too immature for the post?”

“In short – yes.” She said looking at him crookedly through her glasses.

“Well then – I am twenty six, professor.”

“Well that’s – What?”, she sputtered and Harry sighed knowing it would come to this.

“I cannot go into detail of how this occurred but if you’d check you’ll see my magical signature is of the age of twenty six and I’ve lived exactly this long.”

“What is this – nonsense – I can’t believe you’d –“

“Just check, professor, I’m not lying to you.”

McGonagall’s nostrils flared as she brandished her wand and waved it inches from his face. 

“But how?” she said in astonishment looking at the vapory figures surrounding him.

“I shouldn’t go where fate and time are involved. It is enough that you know I am not a mere boy of eighteen. I hope this will help you take my applying for the post more seriously. I wish to teach transfiguration in Hogwarts. I know how difficult this job may be, I realize there is a lot of responsibility involved. I certainly won’t be the youngest member of the staff ever to be appointed and I don’t think I’d be the most unaccomplished either. Of course the decision is up to you.” ,Harry smiled and began to rise.

“Alright Potter, I’ll contact you when I’ve reached a decision.” 

***

It was late august that Harry’d gotten an owl confirming his appointment.

“Your curriculum looks promising.” She said when they met again at her office.

“I have actually adapted it to your own. I feel even though I know I should bring my own approach to the material you know best after all these years how to go about teaching the children in the most suitable way for them to comprehend.”

McGonagall smiled but then a silvery bird flew in before she could reply.

“Minerva, I thought we agreed on the new rooms I require.”, the bird chirped without preamble in Snape’s silky tembre.

Harry stood mesmerized. He knew this bird, but then again how could he not? Snape’s patronus. The hawk. Harry blinked slowly at the bird before realization hit him.

The headmaster opened her mouth on a comment but then quickly closed it into a small frown when Harry bolted out of the office.

***

“You!”

“Potter,” Snape hissed dropping one of the jars he was holding as the door to his lab shut closed with a loud bang.

“You never came to speak with me. You never asked anything! He yelled, Does it mean nothing to you, what I did?”

“On the contrary, Potter, it meant a great deal”, Snape answered slowly, cautious of the angry young man.

“Why then?“

Snape busied himself repairing the damaged jar and lifting it on the shelf once again, turning his back to Harry.

“I merely didn’t wish to burden you with myself anymore than I’ve done”, he turned to look at him black eyes devoid of emotion. “I’ve taken up enough of your time as I understand.”

“You said I was a nuisance for you, always pestering you for time and attention.”

“I seem to have said something of the sort, yes.” Snape moved to sit down suddenly looking forlorn.

“You lied.” Harry accused.

“Whatever has given you that impression?” He asked politely and Harry could hear the false warmth in his voice knowing this person as well as he did. It irked Harry, the tone, the pretense, the glass wall that seemed to have always stood between them.

“Your patronus has changed. It used to be a doe. Like my mother’s.”

Snape closed his eyes slowly and opened them once more. He seemed tired but Harry had no patience for that. Not now that he saw things clearly, maybe for the first time.

“These things do happen sometimes.”

“The eyes remain though. I thought it was still her somehow. But it isn’t, is it? It hasn’t been for some time.”

Snape shook his head.

“What point are you trying to make, Potter?”

“You…you say my name like an insult. Do I deserve it? Must you make it so clear all the time that you can’t stand me? Look.”

Harry shifted slowly dissipating into a smaller shape until reaching the size of a quaffle deep inside his pillowing robes, only to suddenly burst out of them spreading his wings. His animal form flew in a low circle and perched on the desk in front of Snape furrowing his feathers and piercing him with his green eyes.

Snape stared unblinking at the bird, comprehension of his former student's message sinking in.

Ever so slowly the bird rose from the desk only to shift back to his human form never taking his eyes off of Snape.

“Dumbledore said something to me.”

“He must have said many things,” Snape retorted calmly but even so his voice shook minutely to Harry's keen ears.

“He said he had designed the mirror for you.”

Harry sat down in the chair opposite him frowning at the silence.

“I didn’t believe him of course. Now I don’t know what to believe.”

“What do you expect me to say, Potter?” Snape hissed.

“The truth, Severus," he replied softly. "I need to know.”

“And what will you do with that truth? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me!”

“Why should it? You are free of your duty, you’ve done what you had to. I am alive and well. You’ve done enough, now it’s time for you to go on and live your life…”

“You don’t get to decide that for me you git! You owe me that at least.”

“I do owe you that and much more and I would sorely prefer if I didn’t.”

“I don’t.”, Harry relented. “I am not sorry for what I did. I would do it again you know.”

“Even if I hate you for it?”

“It’s not about that. Never has been. Do you have an idea? You would if you’d just asked me! Do you know what it’s like to dream every night of you dying? Right in front of me. I could do nothing. Nothing.” Harry’s eyes filled and he swore quietly.

“You are free now, Harry.”

“I am not, don’t you see? I have no one left, nothing to live for, look forward to.”

“I am sorry.” Snape said solemnly ever so quiet like a secret.

“I am not. Do you know how the mirror works you bastard? It fulfills your heart’s desire, the deepest, innermost yearning of your soul. Every nerve in my body, every waking and dreaming thought - Not for my mother and father, not for my godfather or friends. Only you. I am your prisoner Severus. Even once back then, the timeline you’re not even aware of. You hated me so much, you loathed my existence. I hated you too, with passion. Even then you always saved my life again and again without me knowing it was that that you were doing. And I dreamt of you. Confusing dreams, horrifying me to the core. Even then yearning for what I could never have from you. Acceptance?” he mocked. “You didn’t deem me worthy of that. Respect was absurd to think of. I hated you till the moment you died. Then, only then it began to slowly hit me – my true desire. And even then, the mirror knew it before I did.”

“You have my respect. You know that.” Snape said sounding deeply sad suddenly.

“Do I? You didn’t even seek me after. Never spoke a word to me again. Do you understand now how much it hurt when you said those things to me? That I was never really a welcome company? That you still only tolerated my presence? Your presence was all I had, Severus! The only conversation that wasn’t on perpetual repeat that I’d long outgrown. I was so fuckin’ alone! And I wouldn’t blame you for that if you’d been honest. That’s why I ask you now, why did you lie to me? Why was I broken to pieces? What did I do to deserve it?”

Harry found himself standing up, shaking, wayward tears slipping from his eyes unbidden and he wiped them with determination.

“Nothing.” Snape breathed averting his eyes. “You were too close.”

“And you didn’t want me near you.”

Snape leaned heavily on the desk fixing Harry with a ferociousness the younger man had never before seen.

“I had to tell you that you have to die!” he ground out. “Oh, you so want to know the truth you’re willing to tear it out of me, fine! But Potter, I may be egotistical and I may have been self-centered but you were not the only one broken by what happened. I was mad, do you understand?” Severus growled in a low voice. “I was driven insane with fury and I could do _nothing_!” he spat the word like an insult – to him, to Harry and to the universe itself it seemed. “There was no way out of it and I couldn’t bear to look at you. How could I bear to see the affection in your eyes knowing _what_ I was and how I’d betray the utter trust you placed in me?”, he looked away and Harry saw how his face slowly shattered, the mask of anger gone and he crumbled down in his chair his eyes glassy and distant. “Do you know how many times I prayed death would come for me before the end of that forsaken year? All my life had been a lie and that which I’d sworn to protect would have to die at my hand.” He laughed humorlessly. “I must have been so mad, so desperate. The mirror you’ve seen, I dreamt of it one night. It spoke to me. ‘Do you wish to see your heart’s desire’ it asked, ‘I can take you there just find me’” Severus laughed again this time it seemed at the confusion on Harry’s face. “Dumbledore told you he did something to it. I guess that was his last courtesy to me. When I found it, when I looked at it, it didn’t show me a picture, it simply wrote for me. Do you know what it said?” Severus asked but Harry was transfixed, uncomprehending. “You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you need to save and leave the rest alone –“

“…or it will leave you behind.”, Harry whispered.

“It was a sliver of hope for redemption but hardly enough.”

“I am alive.”

“Yes. And so am I thanks to you.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Harry asked quietly his eyes searching. “Anything?”

Severus huffed out a humorless laughter his long fingers tapping on the desk before him.

“I had no need. You had left me your memories, remember? Now they were quite the revelation. They explained everything, you see? What I’ve always seen in you but had remained hidden from me for so long. Why you were so…invested, protective of me; why you always sought me out; your interest in potions; your knowledge of my past. It became clear to me how much you’d sacrificed to get me to this point where –“ Severus cleared his throat and Harry instantly regretted coming here, disturbing this man’s quiet existence for his own selfish need of the truth. “Where I stood a chance – at life, at freedom.” He got up, turned away from Harry’s gaze, pretending to busy himself with righting imaginary wrongs on the shelf behind his chair. “You had sacrificed your time, your life to save me, and I have already taken more than is due. So you see, Potter, I didn’t need to say anything, ask you anything, because _I_ _already knew_.”

Harry sat back down his mind reeling. Severus, this intensely private man, had been so honest with him, so open even though he’d never share a word of this with him on his own volition. He owed him the same self-destructive truth and Harry wanted more than anything in the moment to level with him. Would it help or would it bother him even more?

“I have deceived you.” He said instead and saw Severus lean back putting space between them again. “I had to do things I had no control over and no way to explain.” He added. “And I had no true conversation other than the ones with you.” Harry leaned in trying to get the man’s attention back as he’d looked away his eyes focused somewhere in the distance. “Caring about you has never been a necessary component in saving you, Severus.”, the man turned his eyes back on him it seemed reflexively upon hearing his name. “But I did anyway and I don’t regret a single conversation we had for all the time you say it had cost me.”, Harry smiled sadly. “I understand if you want me gone. Just say the word and I will make my apologies to McGonagall.”

Severus sighed and turned away.

“Stay if this is what you want to do.”

Harry smiled, a tiny hope forming in him for the first time in too long. 

“Are you sure? I have been reliably informed that I can be very annoying.”

His smile faltered. He’d tried to lighten the mood but instead the man before him still looked forlorn. Perhaps they’d broken what they had irreparably. The unlikely camaraderie with easy silences and spiteful jokes seemed a timeline away to Harry. _You’ll never trust me again._

“I’m sorry. I’d better go.”

“Potter,” Snape called stopping him at the door. “Give it time.” He said simply and Harry smiled despite the painful lump in his throat.

“It’s all yours, Severus.”

***

“All settled?” Hermione chirped merrily from the fireplace.

“Almost.” Harry sighed and continued folding his t-shirts.

“Oh Harry, are you sure about this?”

He could have told her and perhaps he should have but something stopped him from uttering a word about what had transpired. It was too new, too complicated to speak of.

“Do you think I’m dense?”

“Uh, no…well sometimes you can be. You know, you have this thing where you feel less.”

“Less?”

“You know less deserving, less accomplished…just less.”

Harry stopped his motions to look at the fireplace.

“I do that, don’t I?”

“Well you’re really not, you know?”

“You’re my friend, you’re biased.” Harry laughed.

“How is he? Have you seen him?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. But yes, I have.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes, but I really don’t feel like speaking about it right now.”, he admitted.

“Ron says “hi”. He was really miffed about your career choice you know but I think he’s starting to come around.

“He will never understand.” Said Harry, thinking back to the night of the battle.

“Oh, but he does, Harry, I can tell. I think he just misses you.”

“Maybe I can come on Sunday, have a lunch with you guys.”

“That would be great, I can’t wait to tell Ron. It will really make him happy.”

Harry smiled and wished her a good night.

Tucking the last bout of folded clothing in his new wardrobe, he poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and sat in his armchair.

The joy of finding out Severus didn’t detest him had been marred almost instantly by this uneasiness. Harry knew he didn’t stand a chance to understand how the man had felt in finding out. He was grateful, Harry could see that, but beneath it was a betrayal. While the man did not blame him for being dishonest, he thought perhaps that everything Harry did and said had been a sham conductive to purpose. He didn’t know if he was even close in figuring out the complex reasoning the man had, but even if he was right, he had no idea how to fix it and even if he should. Severus had found peace in the castle walls, unburdened by purpose and demands. That’s what he’d wanted for him, right? Why then couldn’t he just leave him be?

***

“We have strengthened the outer wards, the classrooms are ready, and the term begins in two days.”, said professor McGonagall.

“We do still have Acromantula attacks in the forest.” Pointed out professor Sprout.

“Acromantulas?” asked Harry interested. “They usually stay quiet, do you know what provoked them?”

“That’s what I’m going to have to find out.” Said a new familiar voice entering the professor’s meeting. “Sorry, I’m late, the only portkey I managed was pre-set.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Weasley, come join us.” McGonagall greeted Charlie to Harry’s surprise. None of the Weasleys had mentioned he was back in the country.

“Good to see you, Harry.” He murmured in passing with the usual devil may cry smile on his face.

“As our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Mr. Weasley will handle the disturbance, Pomona.”

Harry turned his attention to Severus who seemed unusually subdued. Did he not want the position any longer? He’d not deigned to inflict even a passing glance to the new arrival. For all intents and purposes the professor seemed to be very very far away.

***

“I didn’t know you are back!” said Harry amiably hugging Charlie briefly.

“Oh sorry, nobody knew, apart from McGonagall of course. I just thought, after everything, that mom may be more at ease having me back for a while.” He smiled easily taking a look at Harry. “What about you? I used to hear you bemoan Transfiguration classes, how did you end up here?”

Harry blushed, the heat in his cheeks catching him off-guard.

“I’m just passing by,” he heard himself say. “Until I figure out what I want.”

“I always thought you’d do something related to Defense, you’re a natural.”

Harry laughed delighted and embarrassed at the praise.

“A lifetime ago, maybe.” Harry stumbled as professor Snape chose this moment to pass right behind him and out of the room.

“Git.”, Charlie muttered and he laughed.

“No, it’s my fault”

“Anyway, wanna join me in fighting the monsters of the Forbidden Forrest?” Charlie asked taking a heroic pose. 

“Yes…absolutely.” He chuckled and followed suit.

***

The evening found the two of them, dirty with a few tears in their robes and unfoundedly giddy at the bar in the Three Broomsticks.

“-the worst sort of luck, I tell you!”, Harry laughed.

“Hungarian Horntail all your life!” Charlie enthused. “But not lately. I heard you’d settled and become studious. I didn’t believe it of course.” He laughed.

“Mrs. Weasley said that?”

“Oh, no, no, Hermione did!” Harry burst into laughter.

“Cheers to adulthood. Happens to the best of us.” He joked but the smile froze on his face. Far in the opposite corner of the room sat none other than Severus Snape, enjoying his own drinks with an unfamiliar companion.

“Harry?” Charlie called taking him out of his stupor. “Earth to Harry?” he turned to follow Harry’s gaze. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh – yes… Yes absolutely. Do you know who that is?” Harry asked, indicating the red-haired woman whose back was turned to them.

“Actually I think I do. Come,” he said already getting up. “Clara?”

Harry stayed rooted to the spot looking on as the woman turned to Charlie, instantly beaming. Snape looked distinctly disgruntled by the interruption.

“Harry, come on over!” Charlie called attracting the attention of most of the patrons. He sighed taking his glass and joining their table. “Harry, this is Clara Hastings, Clara, this is Harry Potter.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.” The woman smiled at him. She was breathtakingly beautiful, soft features and tiny freckles and Harry’s heart was suddenly in his throat.

“The pleasure is mine I’m sure.” He managed to say.

“Harry, Clara here is an old friend of mine from our Hogwarts days whom I haven’t seen in… ten years now?”

“Make it twelve” she chuckled.

“Twelve… how time passes by. Do you still carry your bowtruckle with you?”

“No, Weasley, do you still carry the silver locket?” she teased right back and Charlie blushed.

Harry glanced at Severus to see the man glare openly at the young Weasley.

“Do you mind?” Charlie asked already seating himself. “What are you doing so far away from your natural habitat?”

Harry couldn’t swallow the awkwardness, completely unsure what to do with himself. Severus seemed to have noticed for he scooted away on his bench.

“Sit down, before you fall over, Potter.” He said and even though it sounded commanding and cold, Harry was grateful for the option. 

“Severus here has promised me tutorship.” Clara announced brightly.

“I did no such thing.” The man retorted.

“But Sev, I thought we had an agreement!”

Harry’s vision swam uncomfortably and he lifted the glass of firewhiskey in an effort of distraction.

“I merely said that I wouldn’t be opposed to provide you with additional perspective in your research.” Snape corrected but he sounded amused.

Harry put his glass down and hissed as he inadvertently grated the wound on his palm to the wooden surface.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Clara asked and Charlie shrugged.

“Yeah, there was a bit of an Acromantula problem that we dealt with.”

“What – wandless?” she laughed but Harry’s focus was on the long cold fingers turning his palm to inspect the abrasion.

“It’s –“ Harry stopped abruptly as Severus covered his palm with his hand and he watched gob-smacked as the warm wave between them seemed to erase the wound entirely. Harry cleared his throat and Snape let go of his hand. “Thank you,” he muttered. “We got a bit carried away.”

“Indeed.” Severus grunted.

“Hey why didn’t I think of that?”, Charlie said indignant and Clara chuckled. 

“You’re asking me, mate? The idiot with the mediwizard training?” Harry joined waving his now unblemished hand.

“You have mediwizard training, Potter?”

“I – it was superfluous but I had the time.” He murmured with evident embarrassment.

“Well,” Charlie said. “I think we’d better head back to the castle. Harry?”

Harry merely nodded getting up, not chancing another glance towards Severus.

***

“The silver locket Clara mentioned,” Charlie murmured quietly on their way back, extracting a small object from his breast pocket and handing it to Harry.

He clicked the clasp open to find inside the picture of a handsome boy. Confused Harry looked at him, handing back the locket.

“She will never stop teasing me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked and bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to sound like that.

“Friends share.” He said simply smiling. “You can share too you know, if you ever want. I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Am I that transparent?” Harry asked bitterly.

“Oh yes.” Charlie breathed and he froze. “Relax!”, he patted him on the back ushering him forward, “I don’t think he knows.”

“How can he not – you’ve been here for eight hours and you already noticed.”

“Oh I don’t know, people can be quite oblivious to things right under their nose.” Charlie winked leaving Harry even more confused as he hurried to catch up with him.

***

Harry settled into his chair at the high table just in time to welcome back the students. Many familiar faces filled the room and even if Harry knew few of them personally it still felt strange to be sitting up there instead of the Gryffindor table. 

“Nervous, Potter?” asked the silky voice to his right.

“Yes.” He admitted without a glance.

“Don’t be.” Snape said harshly. “They dote on you already, look.”

It was true, most of them were looking at him smiling and speaking in hushed voices.

“How did you manage?”

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask for advice in this regard.” Severus said and Harry turned to look at him to find him smiling infinitesimally.

“I can’t be forbidding like you. I’m afraid they’ll be waltzing all over me before noon tomorrow.”

“They’re just kids, they’ll go as far as you allow them to.”

***

When Harry had wished for Severus’ happiness, he’d never expected to be this close to witness it.

“I am pleased to introduce you to Mrs. Clara Hastings. Mrs. Hastings will be under professor Snape’s tutelage this year in her efforts to gain mastery in Potions and hence she will enjoy the hospitality of Hogwarts. She will not be leading classes, however, she will assist professor Snape in his work.”

Clara’s smile had instantly warmed everyone in the room and even Harry couldn’t deny that she seemed a decent person. If only she would refrain from addressing Snape with such easy familiarity. He felt like an idiot, using the first opportunity to extract himself from the room.

***

Next Saturday as was a usual by now, Harry opened his eyes and tapped over the Marauders map in search of Snape’s dot. For the last few days he’d seen too much and yet his morbid curiosity compelled him to see the two dots of Snape and Clara, inseparable as they had been from her arrival in the castle. He’d been an idiot, he’d not uttered a word to his colleagues for days, he’d drank far too much and he’d even let himself cry to sleep once. Yet here he was, perpetuating in the self-defeating pattern finding it beyond necessary to know.

He was surprised therefore to find Severus on his own in a familiar classroom with the label “brewing”. Forgoing his breakfast completely, Harry dressed quickly and followed the dot’s location.

***

“Enter, Potter.” Snape said upon hearing the knock on the door. “Still spying I see.”, he smirked.

“Why, you have anything to hide?” Harry tried.

“Always. Would you dice the floberworms?”

Silence fell as they worked but it was not the easy silence Harry had hoped for.

“I don’t know how to speak with you anymore.”, he admitted quietly.

Severus stopped stirring the potion abruptly turning instead to look at him.

“Are you happy?”, Harry asked in a small voice.

“Are you?” Snape retorted immediately.

“Yes.”

“Potter, you could never lie very well.”

“I lied well enough.” He spat bitterly.

Snape growled in frustration. “Have you ever thought of actually growing a pair and asking him?”

Harry halted the slicing motion his brain short-circuiting in effort to comprehend.

“What?”

“Mr. Weasley.”

So, Severus had concluded…He might as well, thought Harry sadly, it sounded far better than the truth anyway.

“Would you come with me to Godric’s Hollow on the 31rd?”

Severus fell silent until the hissing of the forgotten potion brought him back to the present.

“I would rather not if it’s all the same to you.” He said finally and it felt like a blow. “I don’t think your parents would appreciate my presence.”

“I see.”

“Potter –“ Severus reached to turn him around but Harry stepped away.

“No, it’s okay, I have to go though.”

“Stop.” He said softly. “I can’t handle any more lies from you.”

“I haven’t been doing okay, Severus. I don’t know how that helps.”, he muttered forcing himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“I was thinking of going to the Three Broomsticks tonight. Would you join me?”

***

Later in the afternoon frustration led Harry to the lake. He’d taken a flight over the grounds, followed by a mindless walk here not even thinking about a particular destination, needing instead to just think. Why had he agreed to go with Severus tonight? Their conversation had felt so unnatural and stunted – he’d never felt so out of place in his presence before. He had no business talking with the man anymore, he couldn’t think of anything to say and Severus himself did not seem eager enough to hold a natural conversation with him. Why invite him to the three Broomsticks at all?

***

“I’m glad you could join me.”, Severus welcomed him as he reached the table already nursing a drink at half past eight.

“Of course.” Said Harry simply.

“It crossed my mind that I behaved much like a bull in a china shop.” Severus said and Harry had to laugh.

“I’m sorry, that’s just such a muggle thing to say.”

“You forget my father was as muggle as they come.”

“Yes, of course.” He said sipping from his glass.

“I have been making a list lately. It’s still short but I thought you might help elucidate a few points.”

“Indeed?”

“You don’t have an interest in Potions.” 

Harry frowned, “Not really, no. I did tell you in a way.”

“When did you tell me precisely?”

“Sometime in sixth year when you found out I haven’t been planning on continuing the subject? Well the real reason was I wasn’t supposed to continue originally as I got a mere acceptable on the exam. But that was no longer true when you asked.”

“Acceptable? Potter, you learnt how to make anti-venom in a couple of weeks.”

Harry looked up tentatively from his glass. “I didn’t sleep for a couple of weeks. It was all I had in order to save your life.”, he said softly.

“Why did you come back?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?” Snape asked raising his voice.

“No.” Harry swallowed a large sip of his drink. “I’m not going there, it doesn’t matter anymore. I came back. Why did you stay?”

Severus seemed to debate with himself the change of subject but relented.

“It has been my home for too long, I couldn’t imagine a different life at this point. Why did you?”

“It has been my home too, for fourteen years now. Though I don’t think I will retire on the job.”

“I didn’t think teaching appealed to you.”

“It doesn’t, you made sure to make that clear to me some years ago.” Harry laughed then saddened. “She looks like my mom.”

“Who does?”

“Clara, your apprentice.”

Severus laughed and Harry felt his throat constricting.

“She does not. Sure she has red hair and freckles but a lot of people do. No, Potter, even you look more like her than Clara does.”

“Please don’t say that.”, he uttered quietly and he could feel Severus’ searching gaze upon him once more.

“I was merely jesting, you are nothing like either of them, you do know that I hope?”

“I don’t know who I am supposed to be anymore. Does that make sense?”

“What were you before coming back?”

“Painfully miserable?” Harry joked. “I haven’t really gotten as far as to fix my own life. It feels like I ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, it has nothing to do with coming back. It’s just –“

“You lack purpose.”, Severus said and Harry had to stop to think about it. While it did not pertain entirely to his particular situation, perhaps it pertained enough to Severus’ own.

“What would you do in my place?” 

Severus chuckled to this, “I can’t make decisions for you.”

“No but indulge me either way. Please,”

“If I were you, Potter, I’d find myself a family.” He sighed. “No accomplishment and no career are ever going to be enough on your own.”

Harry reclined back struck how much those words rang home not only for him, but for the man as well. Beautiful irony that they couldn’t find the fulfillment in each other and yet Harry couldn’t envision being with anybody else, doing this to anybody at all. Faking feelings, pretending it was his desire. Would the feeling dissipate with time? Would he spend his entire life thinking what could have been if only -?

“Would you – follow the same advice?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could.

“I am not you, Potter.” Severus said simply and it made Harry angry. He was talking about himself. Harry was sure it was what he wanted, and moreover, definitely what he needed.

“You are human, Severus, as much as you might try to avoid thinking about it.” He muttered softly and it sounded sad to his own ears. The man didn’t speak, did not look at him either and to Harry it seemed that he’d hit an invisible limit to his unbreachable privacy. “Clara is beautiful.” He murmured but Severus did not respond. “She seems to be very capable of holding her end of the conversation.” Still no response followed as the man didn’t even seem to register his words. “You two seem very close –“

Severus turned to look at him finally and Harry swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. His eyes were shining with pure venom.

“Aren’t you quite the nasty little hypocrite?” he growled in a low voice and Harry shivered much preferring yelling to this quiet rage. “No war to excuse you now, Potter.” He spat. “Not a thing you need to be doing instead. And yet you sit here and you do nothing like the coward you really are.”

Harry stared at him trying to calm down, trying to remember that this was not the man who, even as a portrait, had proclaimed his disdain for Harry Potter. It hurt even more somehow.

“It has never been the obstacle, Severus. I cannot bear to lose what little I have for the sake of disclosure. I will not bounce back, I know it in my bones.” Harry said finding his eyes disgustingly brimming.

“He fancies you, Potter.” Snape spat the words full of vitriol and he felt he had to stop this conversation and get out before suffocating.

He reached out to cover Snape’s clenched fist on the table with his palm, squeezing once pleadingly as he shook his head slowly.

Severus retrieved his hand gingerly, studying him with his penetrating black eyes.

“I thought –“ Harry shook his head again. “I didn’t mean to pry.” He said softly at last.

“I know. I didn’t either.” He said and Severus sighed.

“Clara is Charity Burbage’s daughter, Potter. There is nothing to pry into.”

Harry frowned as it dawned on him how stupid he must have seemed to Severus.

“I am a moron” he laughed. “I’m sorry”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sure you had my well-being in mind.” He smiled uncomfortably. “However, I’d like to hear no more of this.”

“Understood.”

“So mediwizard?” Harry laughed. “I’ve been wondering, it’s not your modus operandi.”

“No? Did I not paint the perfect picture of the selfless martyr?” Harry teased finding that once more he was free to breathe. “I learned a lot about healing in the past years. It just seemed stupid not to get the paper. And I didn’t have much on my hands so it was a distraction.”

“It was not a total waste of time then, coming back.” Snape said and it sounded strange to Harry.

The man himself wore an impenetrable mask but Harry had keen ears for all the nuances of this voice and this particular inflection was not one he’d heard before.

“I never thought it was a waste of time.”

“No, you said you ruined your life.”

“I never should have said that. I only meant that it feels distant now. It’s like I’m looking in on everybody through a thin veil. I haven’t genuinely been part of their lives for years.”

“Detachment.”

“Yes, detachment. I don’t know how to breach the distance.”

“I expect it will come naturally with time.” Harry chuckled to this.

“Not everything in this world can be solved with time.”

“No, I am aware.” He replied softly and then again something caught Harry’s ears, something quite disconcerting.

“Severus?”, the man looked up. “Are you alright?”

“As well as it is possible, so yes, Potter, I am quite alright.”

No you’re not, he thought, and I have no power to help you anymore. 

Instead he said, “Will you teach me how to make Felix Felicis?” and Severus suddenly erupted in laughter.

“Thank you, Potter, for having the pleasure of speaking with you agenda-free for full twenty minutes.”

Harry bit his lip trying to remain serious, “Will you?”

“I will.” He said indignantly but then fell silent once more. “Do you mean to tell him once you drink it?”

Harry hadn’t thought about it, “No.” He said simply. 

“Will you tell me?”

“No”, he all but whispered.

***

“Your miniature gang is harassing a Hufflepuff now.” He said by a way of entry but halted.

Severus was methodically slicing some herbs on a workbench his robes a few feet away haphazardly thrown over a chair. He’d never imagined the Potions professor without the usual garment with its thousand forbidding buttons, yet here he was, wearing a simple white muggle shirt with pushed up sleeves, the remnant of the dark mark like a faded out tattoo on his arm, visible even from the distance of the entryway. Harry gulped regretting coming in even as his feet led him to the bench of their own volition. Hypnotized, he gazed at the deft hands as they held the silver knife working with precision and considerable speed.

“I don’t have a gang, Potter, I have students and you should have duct points.” Severus said never taking his eyes off the task.

“How many points does one take for publicly outing a fellow student in Hogwarts?” Harry deadpanned looking away from him at last.

Severus stopped and turned his attention to Harry, “What did you do?”

“I was too preoccupied with the Hufflepuff to deal with them. The boy was mortified.”

“I shall speak with them tonight after dinner.”

“I almost transfigured them.” He confessed propping himself on a bench as Severus snorted. “It is no laughing matter, it was a close call.”

“I am sure you were terrifying”, he said smirking.

“I was not terrifying.” He admitted and the man chuckled.”Merlin, it’s hot in here, what are you doing?”

“Experimenting.” He said simply.

“Experimenting with heat?”

“Steam.”

“Ah,” he smiled. “I always thought your wardrobe consisted of black robes and buttons.”

Severus stopped to look at him, “The assumptions of all the student body no doubt.”

Harry smiled at this and tuned to leave, “No doubt.”

***

Harry spent all day at Godric’s Hollow. He hadn’t meant to splurge on guilt and sadness quite so much but once there, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. It felt wrong somehow. He’d done what he had to, he’d fulfilled his heart’s desire and even so, he was left unfulfilled and quite alone. Somehow being next to Severus made the whole ordeal even more painful. He could take no pleasure in seeing the man, in speaing with him – it was just one more reminder that he was stuck desperately wishing for something he couldn’t have. He’d fucked up and even though in no way did he wish to take it back, to have him gone, Harry knew that he’d have to let go, that the smart thing was to pick the shambles of his life and build something tolerable for himself. And yet he dreaded the day he’d have to part with the opportunity to see Severus at breakfast, to walk several floors and to find him somewhere there busy but alive and breathing, smiling or angry, but vibrant, pulsating making him feel alive.

It was ten o’clock when he entered the castle and he felt very much like a ruin of a man.

“You’re late, Potter.” A silky voice called behind him and Harry turned bleary eyes and shadows hiding behind a threadbare glamour. “The feast ended hours ago.”

“I’m not hungry.”, he muttered voice too hoarse to hide from cursing, crying and shouting.

“I thought you might join me for a drink.” Severus said suddenly close by, brushing past him towards the dungeon pathway.

“Sounds appropriate.” He muttered to himself as he followed.

***

“Your choice of poison?”, he asked like the perfect host lighting the candles on the wall mantels with his wand.

“Red wine if you have it.” He didn’t know why he’d said it exactly but it felt appropriate.

“Red wine it is.” Severus said pouring two glasses and floating them to the table.

They sat together and the silence stretched as the candles flickered and cracked.

“Do you think about her?”, Harry asked at last his voice cracking in the quiet room.

“I do…” he answered softly. “I think about how she loved flowers but she hated spinach – how she disbelieved divination and yet took the full course… I think about how she hated injustice and how furious she would get; how she disliked your father and how she changed her mind. I think how proud she would have been of you had she had the chance to see the man you have become.”

Harry closed his eyes and felt the sadness swallow him once more.

“– Potter,”

Here he was again, Severus speaking and him too much in his head to listen. Suddenly the man was moving and a fresh wave of magic bristled past him caressing his skin. It took him a moment to register that his glamour was stripped as he got up enraged at the man, eyes red with burst blood vessels.

“You have no right –“ he yelled trying to shove Snape away but the man merely used the motion to capture his arms in a firm grip.

No pretense, Severus had once again stripped him of the option to pretend his whole body didn’t ache with all of his emotions trying to tear him apart.

“You have no right, “ he growled dangerously. “Has it crossed your brilliant mind that I don’t want to be seen right now?” he yelled.

Severus moved to pull him closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should have known, I should have come with you, I’m sorry, Harry”

He dropped like a doll in Severus’ hands upon hearing his name and the man held him closer still, crushing him to his own body in a firm embrace.

“Is there a potion -? Is there a potion, Severus, that can make this go away?”

“No,” he breathed. “But you can’t drown yourself in guilt, I won’t allow you, do you hear me?”.

“It is my fault, you can’t change that.”

“I can since it is all mine.”

Harry pushed away extracting himself from the very arms he’d dreamed of so many times.

“It’s not, it was never your fault.”

“You came back to save a life, Potter, you did nothing wrong. It is all my fault for guilting you into coming back. I saw your memories, remember? I made you hate me, then I made you regret that hate. I gave you no choice. It was my fault.”, he said coldly. Harry thought it self-disdain.

“You’re wrong.” He spat. “It was not guilt that led me to this.”

“Whatever it was, you shouldn’t have done it. You should have left me die where I fell – where I was supposed to end up all along. Not lose years of your life and everyone you care about to cater after a spiteful teacher tired of life.” Snape growled and somehow Harry knew this wasn’t about reassuring him anymore. It felt raw and wrong and damn Snape for throwing it at him like this.

He stepped away slowly resuming his seat.

“You know nothing.” He uttered quietly, equally as cold gesturing for Severus to sit. “You imagine that I lost my life, my time because of the mirror, but you’re wrong. It is what I’ve always been meant to do, where I was always going to end up. Haven’t you stopped to actually figure it out? Your heart’s greatest desire, the way you felt, your desperation to stop the events from unfolding – this is what brought you to the mirror. Why do you expect it would be different for me?”

“What are you saying?”

“That I never had a choice. You are like poison, Snape. You burn inside me, slowly killing me –“

“I’m sorry –“

“You’re…necessary.”

Severus halted his eyes searching, suddenly suspicious. Harry felt a nudge in his mind, very mild and yet unmistakably there.

“Why?”

“Don’t you dare deny me, Potter” he growled.

“I’m not denying, I’m asking why.”

Snape reached and grabbed his arm forcefully and Harry couldn’t think anymore. “I need to understand.” The touch hurt like all of Severus’ touches before it and he was so very tired of playing games ending in perpetual stalemate. It was time he lost and turned the page.

“If that’s what you need.” Was all he said before relaxing and once again meeting his gaze.

_ A young Severus and Harry were standing in the old bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. _

_ “Look at me”, Severus whispered. _

_ “No, please.”, the boy pleaded. _

_ “You left me to die, Potter, look at me!” _

_ “I can’t…” _

_ “You did this to me.”, young Severus whispered and blood trickled from his neck. _

_ “It wasn’t me who did this.”Severus dropped to the ground weaker and weaker _

_ “It’s okay Harry, I knew how much you hated me.” He whispered. _

_ Harry collapsed on his knees next to him grasping him desperately. _

_ “I don’t. Please, I don’t hate you at all.” _

__

_ Ginny was at Harry’s apartment, the two arguing. _

_ “Oh, don’t go acting so innocent. Snape’s name. You’re calling Snape’s name in your sleep almost every night. And if I wasn’t sure the git’s dead I’d have left you by now.” _

_ It was the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, and Harry was speaking to the portrait of Severus. _

_ “Did you – really hate me – that much?” _

_ “No.”, replied the portrait. “Much more than you can even begin to imagine, you foolish boy –“ he was deterred by a quick and admonishing “Severus” by the portrait of Dumbledore, which didn’t stop him from finishing the thought. “and before you ask – no, I didn’t stop until the last drop of blood left my body.” _

_ “I see”, whispered Harry and managed to leave before another word was said. _

__

_ Harry was again at Hogwarts, kneeling beside the marble tomb of Dumbledore, visibly distressed. _

_ “I’m right, aren’t I? I must have made a mistake on the way for things to end up like this.“I feel like – my life’s not my own anymore – how did this happen? ‘don’t pity the dead, pity the living and above all those who live without love’”, he cited with a disgusted expression. “Did Snape ever find love? How could he when he’d spent all his adult life loving a dead woman – taking care of her child, even though he hated it… It’s just – too unfair… If he was alive I could do something – reciprocate for all those years he… Dead…for me to live. No, not even for me to live – without a proper reason – on a damn stupid whim of a psychopath! There was no reason… ah… I don’t understand – how can his death move me more than my own problems after all this time?” _

_ Harry rested his head on the tombstone. Something glittering through the grass grabbed his attention. He moved slightly to see better and frowned when he found his own face there. He laughed aloud and moved closer.  _

_ “Shouldn’t I be seeing my heart’s desire? I only see myself staring back…ah. Does that mean I’m the happiest man alive?” _

_ “Do you wish to see your heart’s desire?” _

_ “Tell me, what do I desire?”, he asked after a fashion.  _

_ “Wouldn’t it be better if I showed you? Wouldn’t it be even better if I took you there?” _

_ “There? Where?” _

_ “Why to your heart’s desire, silly. But you won’t be able to come back.” _

_ “How do you even know what I desire when I myself have no idea?” _

_ “Easy. If it isn’t I can’t take you to it. If it is, then I will.” _

_ “Easy you say… Okay, take me – anywhere’s better than here anyways.”,  _

_ The ground beneath his feet disappeared – not that he needed it, it seemed. In a flash everything was gone but he himself and the mirror in front of him. In its surface now stood Snape in full height. _

_ “You were too late, but now you are in time. Touch only what you have to save and leave the rest alone or it will leave you behind.” _

Harry made to remove Severus from his mind but the man pushed stronger somehow than he remembered.

_ The two of them were in Severus’ living room and Harry had inclined forward in his chair speaking to him. _

_ “Every passing moment is a thought of that one person, and every thought is pure sweet agony. Every touch we have shared, every word, every glance are burnt inside my mind. Awake or dreaming, I yearn to be able to reach, to hold, caress, protect…even just a fleeting touch if it may be welcome, would be enough. So no, I’m not infatuated.”, he finished bitterly _

_ Next Hermione and Harry were in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had dark circles under his eyes, he looked nothing like his usual self. _

_ “Harry,”, she almost chided. “you only ever have light in your eyes when you come back from the dungeons. I might have noticed it earlier and attributed it to respect or mentorship or anything innocent, but it was obvious what it was after you took no interest in Cho’s blatant attempts to corner you or in any others’ advances.” _

_ Harry sighed deeply. “I’m hopeless. I only want him to be happy you see. It’s a beautiful irony that his happiness should lie in me being as far away as possible.” _

_ Harry was sitting on the ground outside the tent in the Forest of Dean gazing at the bonfire. _

_ “You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?”, Hermione approached him from the entrance. _

_ Harry didn’t move a muscle to respond, the trace of a single tear still wet on his face. _

_ “Always” _

_ “Oh, Harry…” _

Harry pushed against the intrusion once more but he was met with such ferocity and sheer will that he felt the stupid bubble popping for the first time in his life.

What followed were incoherent strings of exchanges, words, touches, emotions and he felt like his head was going to explode.

Instead Severus finally retreated from his mind and Harry sagged against the armchair closing his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have let you.”, he muttered exhausted.

“I should think I had the right to know.”

Harry opened his eyes to see a distant and somehow sad expression on Snape. It wasn’t pity. Not yet.

“You have the right to know only what I want to tell you, Severus.”

“How… When?”

“I don’t know. Feels like forever at this point.”

“Ridiculous”, Severus breathed and lifted the glass to his lips.

“I don’t expect anything from you.”

“As if you’ve ever.” Snape muttered looking absently at the floor.

“Oh I have, I always expected the worst.”

Severus looked up fixing Harry with an empty look.

“And I always delivered.”

“And you always delivered.”

“You saved my life in more ways than one, four times in fact. The first before you could walk.” Harry huffed out a breath feeling pinned by the black eyes. “You gave my life a new purpose when I thought I’d lost it all. You were the first living soul to defend me when I was clearly wrong. You showed me trust when I had none myself. And you showed me my life was worth saving. I never even thanked you.”

“I never expected you to. I didn’t do it for your gratitude, Severus, but for my own sanity, do you see?”

“I see I’ve made you scared.”

“Terrified.”

“We are the same in one crucial and ugly aspect, you said. I’ve thought about it a lot, I could never figure it out until now.”

“It’s one person that gives our lives a purpose.” Harry said bitterly.

Snape stood crossing the distance between them turning Harry’s chin so he would face him.

“We are both utter fools who can’t see what’s right under our noses.” He murmured. “I’ve cursed myself for needing you. I’ve tried to push you away to get you out of my mind but it never worked, Potter.”

The feeling of his skin under his fingertips when Harry caressed the side of his face felt like revelation. Severus’ hand joined Harry’s pushing it firm and insistent and before he could think, there were lips touching his, igniting him from the inside. He couldn’t think, he didn’t know if the desperation that swallowed him was his or Severus’ but suddenly he was standing, grasping, pushing the other man back until they both hit the desk behind them. Severus groaned as Harry grasped the back of his neck in a firm caress and Harry gave him no time, deepening the kiss until he responded. The first touch of Severus’ hot tongue was a jolt of pure electricity and Harry couldn’t help but push his body forward into the welcoming heat, gasping as he felt the hard erection underneath the other man’s robes. He pushed for support at the man’s neck suddenly dizzy and they leaned on one another trying to breathe.

“I can’t stop.” Severus murmured and it sounded delightfully broken.

Harry leaned in kissing and licking along the man’s jaw and neck his hands grasping at his robes to pull him closer until their bodies met again in a delicious agony. He was drowning at last in his desire for this man and he did not intend to survive. He snaked a hand to cover Snape’s cock through his clothes, his free one pulling against the man’s robes in an urgent need to taste more of his skin with his lips.

Harry growled in frustration passing once over the endless buttons with his magic, furious with desire and they obliged popping open as Severus groaned beneath him.

He pushed at Harry, turning him around, grinding against him and he gasped desperately wishing for more. He bent down to bite his neck as his hand grasped Harry’s cock. A few firm strokes was all it took to send him over the edge and he leaned against the older man as he too spent deliciously underneath all those layers of clothing.

Severus nuzzled against his face purring in content. “You owe me a set of robes, Potter.”, he murmured and Harry laughed breathlessly.

“I’d prefer you without them any day.”

“We have waited too long.” Severus breathed as the younger man turned around to face him.

“I’ve waited for this for so long without believing it would actually come and now I don’t know what to do with it.”

“You could try actually living for once.” Severus said softly.

“I’m not sure I even know how.” 

“Oh I’m sure we can think of something.” The man laughed and moved to seal their lips once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you all took the journey with me.  
> It's been 10 years and it has ben a pleasure to post this long forgotten work here for you to see.  
> I was dubious to the end on the finishing of the story - for the story in my head has not ended at all. But this is it - for now at least, and I hope you do like it. Let me know your thoughts by posting a comment :)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kymf6m4sVWM


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